


Just Sit In The Corner and Watch

by mantisbelle



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Aromantic Eskel, Come Eating, Cuckolding, Enthusiastic Consent, Eskel Has Self-Esteem Issues (The Witcher), Established Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Intercrural Sex, Kink Negotiation, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Oral Sex, Past Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Switch Eskel (The Witcher), Touch-Starved, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg's Taxidermy Unicorn, Yennefer's Canonical Unicorn Kink, banter as foreplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:27:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29613579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mantisbelle/pseuds/mantisbelle
Summary: Yennefer corners Eskel in a storage room with an odd request involving her, Geralt, and himself. Eskel doesn't know what to do with it at first, but together Yennefer and Geralt manage to get him to agree.After all, it's just having him sleep with Yennefer while Geralt watches. What could be the problem?-----------------------Sugar and Spice BingoPrompt: Cuckolding
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Eskel/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 8
Kudos: 36
Collections: Sugar and Spice Witcher Bingo





	1. The Negotiations

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Sugar and Spice Witcher Bingo](https://sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo.tumblr.com/) using the prompt "cuckolding."
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

It was three hours before dinner when Yennefer cornered Eskel in one of Kaer Morhen’s supply rooms where he’d buried himself among jars of preserves and pickled vegetables that were in need of sorting and labeling. She stepped in quietly, although she seriously doubted that Eskel didn’t hear or smell her when she entered. He was a  _ witcher _ , after all. Even with the use of magic it would take a lot to pull the wool over his eyes and ears.

He paid her no mind, more interested in getting through the more mundane tasks that had been assigned to him than anything else. 

It wasn’t until Yennefer pulled the door shut behind her with a quiet  _ thud _ that Eskel looked up from a jar he was painstakingly labeling. Whatever was inside, it certainly  _ wasn’t _ anything pickled or some sort of jam. It didn’t look like anything that could have come off of a monster either. 

“Yennefer?” Eskel asked, raising a dark eyebrow in confusion. He stood up tall to watch her, hands stilling with the jar in his hand. “Is there something wrong?” 

“Of course not,” Yennefer crossed her arms and watched Eskel tuck the jar away. “Labeling condiments? Or some experimental elixir?”

Eskel shook his head, “A lot less interesting than that,” he said, stepping away to remove another jar from a small crate that he’d carried in with him. “Experimenting with ingredient storage for the next season. I was in a village in—” He stopped himself, as though he’d realized that what he was talking about wasn’t  _ that  _ interesting. “I heard it was possible to grow cut herbs with water,” Eskel finished. “Figured it was worth a shot to see what else could be grown the same way.” 

“And you are storing them in the dark because?” 

“Because these aren’t herbs,” Eskel showed her the jar. “They’re mushrooms.” 

Yennefer took the jar, which was only half-way labeled. “Psylocibe, Eskel, truly?” 

Eskel snorted, “Surprised?” 

“Slightly,” Yennefer gave him the jar back. “I didn’t see you as the type to be interested in them.” 

Eskel let out a slight laugh, “I keep it hidden,” he said, “better than Black Gull anyhow. The other jars  _ are _ ones we'd use for potions though. I just figured I’d take the chance to do something for my own enjoyment while I was at it. Besides, Vesemir doesn’t generally look through our things.” 

“Fortunate, that,” Yennefer teased. “May your mushroom experiment work out, Eskel.”

“And uh—” Eskel scratched at the back of his head. “Should I ask what you’re doing here?” 

“Me? I simply wanted to speak to you.” 

Yennefer had a passing thought that she should watch Eskel’s hands, just in case the witcher felt threatened for some reason. But he made no motion to twist and bend his fingers into a sign. Instead, he simply arranged the jars of mushroom spores so that the Psylocibe was at the back and out of sight. 

He was mulling what she was saying over in his head, Yennefer thought, or perhaps waiting for her to say more.

_ She’s never wanted to speak to me before, _ Eskel thought, so loud it was nearly deafening.  _ She has no reason to want to speak to me. _

Yennefer let out a breath, “I wanted to speak with you regarding a matter with Geralt.” 

“Geralt?” Eskel’s brow furrowed, “what did he do this time?” 

“ _ This time _ ,” Yennefer bit out, “He did absolutely nothing of consequence. Merely made a request and given that we are here in this keep for the winter with absolutely nothing to do but go through Vesemir’s clearly never-ending list of chores and I’ve been asked not to use portals for the comfort of everyone here, I’ve limited options for how to fulfill his request.” 

Eskel turned to face her fully for the first time since she’d come in. “What could be so important that you need my help? If it’s important, Vesemir would be—” 

“I’d rather not have Vesemir enter the conversation at all,” Yennefer raised a hand to quiet Eskel even as she spoke over him. “And somehow I feel Lambert would be less than open to the idea at hand.” 

“So you’ve come to me?” Eskel seemed to deflate, at least slightly. “Well… it is Geralt. What does he need me for?”  _ Why wouldn’t he come to me himself? _

Yennefer stepped in close to Eskel and caught him by the hand. Eskel stiffened up under her touch but made no attempt to remove her from him. She brought herself in close enough to Eskel so that she could lean in and whisper into his ear. 

“Geralt would like,” Yennefer said quietly, “to partake in a small experiment which will hopefully add some spice to this winter.” 

“You’re talking about fucking,” Eskel put it bluntly. “What does this have to do with me?”

Yennefer rolled her eyes, “I’ve been given the impression that you two have history.” 

“And?” 

Yennefer cupped his unblemished cheek with a gloved hand. “He and I are dealing in retribution as much as we are sex. I’m certain you’re aware of his… infidelities.” 

“I heard it was you that did it,” Eskel said, expression dangerously cool. “Something about a mage in Aedd Gynvael.”

Yennefer sighed heavily, “Of course you would know about that.” 

“He tells me things,” Eskel drew himself away from Yennefer. “So you’re upset about Triss again?”

“I’m always upset about Triss, but for more reasons than just Geralt,” Yennefer said, “But this is more of a matter of  _ play _ . Something which Geralt and I have discussed many times over, as well.” 

Eskel was quiet. “I need you to tell me plainly, Yennefer. I’m not going to play guessing games or let you talk me in circles.” 

Yennefer rolled her eyes. “He’d like to be able to sit in on me fucking one of his friends,” Yennefer explained, “We both realized that there’s not many people closer to him than you.” 

Eskel let out a breath, one that was so heavy and fraught that Yennefer nearly felt bad about it. “Don’t feel obligated to say yes. It’s hardly criti—” 

“I only feel obligated to talk to Geralt about this first,” Eskel cut Yennefer off with an almost vicious tone. “I don’t trust mages and sorceresses as a  _ rule _ . I want to talk to Geralt, and then after that, you and I can talk.” 

Yennefer couldn’t help but to be a  _ little _ hurt by the normally calm and polite witcher’s reaction. “I’m sure you have a reason for such prejudice?”

“Nothing you’re going to hear about from me,” Eskel said. “Now I’m going to finish labelling these, and then I’m going to talk to Geralt. After, depending on what  _ he _ tells me, all three of us are going to have an  _ in depth _ discussion of what you’re talking about.” 

“I suppose that may be the best that I can hope for,” Yennefer replied, “very well, Eskel. You speak to our dear Geralt, and then get back to me. You’ll find I’ve told you nothing but the truth.” She cocked her head to the side. “They say you witchers can smell a lie. You’d know.”

Eskel snorted, “don’t think I’d smell anything over that perfume of yours.” 

“Speak to him, Eskel. I’ll leave you to your mushrooms.” Yennefer pat his arm, ever so gently and carefully to ensure that she didn’t hit the spikes of his armor. She wondered what he’d been through to convince him that putting spikes all over himself was a good idea. 

“Right,” Eskel grumbled, picking up the next jar and turning it over in his hand in search of the blank label. 

Yennefer did as promised, and left Eskel to it.

* * *

The problem of spending winters at Kaer Morhen with three other witchers was that it could be hard finding a chance to get someone alone. Not just alone in the sense of being the only two people in the room. Alone to the point where they could not be  _ heard _ was near impossible without going out into the valley. Adding a sorceress who apparently had no qualms about mind reading on top of that made it even harder. 

Ultimately, Eskel’s best hopes were that Lambert and Vesemir would go hunting together, which was downright unlikely since Lambert spent half his time antagonizing the old wolf even on a  _ good _ day. 

The singular silver lining was that Eskel knew Geralt’s daily routines almost as well as he knew his own, and so he was able to corner his oldest friend in the stables while Geralt went about feeding the horses. It required him to get up long before the asscrack of dawn, but it was his best chance. 

To be truthful, to say that Geralt was  _ feeding _ the horses might have been generous. Only a fraction of Geralt’s time in the stable was ever spent feeding horses— most of it was dedicated to cooing over them and sneaking them treats when nobody would realize it was happening. Geralt had always been like that though, had always cared for the horses more than people. 

When they were boys, Geralt had gotten in trouble countless times for sneaking into the stables to see the new horses at the beginnings of the winter. Eskel had also gotten in trouble for the same thing, mostly because he would let himself get dragged along by Geralt. 

Sneaking into the pens with Geralt almost felt  _ nostalgic. _

In a small pen, the tiny goat herd milled about within their confinements. 

As her name suggested, Lil’ Bleater announced Eskel’s presence with an excited  _ baa  _ because his presence meant both that she got fed but also that she’d be let loose in the yard once Eskel milked her for the morning.

Eskel shot the goat a  _ look _ but the goat didn’t care, as a goat was wont to do. 

Geralt peeked his head out from behind Vesemir’s greying mule. “Eskel?”

“Hey, Wolf,” Eskel greeted him. “Not spoiling Sor’ca too much?” 

Geralt shot back an awkward look, all too aware of the fact that he normally would have gotten scolded for feeding other people's mounts. He'd certainly seen the strap a few times back when the two of them had been boys for sneaking apples from the kitchens to feed to the horses. 

Eskel approached the stable, reaching out to pat Scorpion on the muzzle. The stallion nipped at the collar of Eskel's shirt, but he paid the animal no heed. "I'm not going to tell," Eskel smiled softly at Geralt, "you know that." 

"Never know," Geralt stroked Sor'ca's brow and then moved on to the next stall over. "Before I wasn't also feeding Scorpion behind your back." 

"He doesn't need the treats," Eskel grumbled, "spoiling him makes him worse for me to deal with, you know that right?" 

"Yeah," Geralt laughed. "That's about half the fun of it." 

"Asshole." 

"Yeah," Geralt quieted for just a moment, "So what has you up so early anyways? Wanted to check in on the goats?" 

Eskel glanced over at the pen where the five animals were milling about. Lil’ Bleater rammed into the gate with her horns, rearing up on her back legs to do it. "They're fine for the minute. I actually came out so that you and I could talk." 

"Talk?"

Eskel crossed his arms over his chest and watched Geralt picked up a brush so that he could scrub Roach down. "Yennefer came to talk to me the other day about... something," Eskel didn't actually know how the hell he was supposed to approach the topic. "Sounded like she was asking me to sleep with her." 

Geralt's brow furrowed, "She mentioned that she'd talked to you and it hadn't gone well." 

"I just don't know who to trust here," Eskel justified himself, "She came to me with something that I needed to hear from you. So was what she was telling me true?" Eskel blinked. "I mean, what even is the appeal?"  _ Why me _ , he thought but did not dare to voice. 

"I... don't know how to explain it," and oh, if the white wolf could have blushed he would have undoubtedly flushed red. Geralt's mouth opened as he looked for a better way to explain exactly what he was thinking. Eskel stood back and let Geralt work through it on his own in the same way that he had always let Geralt figure out how to explain things. It was a rhythm that the two of them had been in since they were little kids, though they'd grown and calmed down significantly from back in those days. "It's... a power thing."

"A power thing?" Eskel asked skeptically. "From the outside, that looks like that's what most of your relationship with her is about."

"Yeah, and what do you know?" Geralt prodded Eskel back in return, "when's the last time you had a stable relationship? Or a relationship of  _ any _ kind?“

" _ Stable relationship _ ," Eskel repeated with a scoff, "That's not my sort of business and you know it, Geralt. I haven't been that way in a very long time." 

Geralt moved on towards Roach's flanks, brushing her in easy circles. "You wouldn't get jealous if your succubus—“

"If you're really suggesting that I should be  _ concerned  _ about a succubus sleeping around you're sorely mistaken." Eskel corrected Geralt even though it felt silly for him to do so. "It's not like you and Yen. I've never had something like that so I suppose I'll never really understand it.“ 

Geralt hummed, "Not a possessive bone in your body, huh?" 

“I focus on different things.“

Eskel turned away from Geralt and towards the goat pen. Lil' Bleater stared up at him with her wide eyes, horizontal pupils seemingly unfocused. She opened her mouth and let out a nearly deafening bleat. “I just don't see why you'd want to risk fucking what you and Yen have up. I mean, it's already dysfunctional enough—“

A quiet groan escaped Geralt. “Maybe I suggested you because I knew you wouldn't run the risk of ruining things,” Geralt said so quietly that Eskel nearly had to strain to make it out properly. “You won't catch feelings for anyone, or get attached, you're the type to just... want everyone to enjoy themselves.” 

Eskel climbed up over the wall of the goat pen. "That's not the way that Yennefer talked about it. She made it sound more like she was asking me because you and I are so close. And right now I also don’t really know what ‘making sure everyone enjoys themselves’ would even  _ be.“ _

"Eskel—“ Geralt stammered out. ”It’s because I can trust you." 

"I know that as well as you do," Eskel breathed. "So what would you want me to even do, Geralt? Asking me to sleep with your—"

"She's not  _ my woman _ ," Geralt cut him off, "She'd light both of us on fire if you even suggested it.“

"Fine, so your... sorceress," Eskel tried to reach for better words but couldn't come up with a better way to address it. Spouse certainly wasn't the correct word. "I'm being asked to plough your sorceress, and for what to happen after?" 

Geralt blinked. "You'd..." he started, "I'd watch you two, somehow. Walk in or something, I don’t know yet. It's supposed to be planned, that's why we're talking about it with you first. If you even agree.“

And that made sense. It made so much sense but still Eskel didn't know how he was supposed to process what he was being asked to. It wasn't as though he didn't like Geralt and that could have been a problem. He'd always liked Geralt, even back since the first night that the two of them had met and Geralt had been nice enough to sit up awake with Eskel during his terrible first night at Kaer Morhen. That night Eskel hadn't been able to stop crying because he'd wanted his mother so badly, and Geralt, sweet motherless Geralt who had been at Kaer Morhen since his infancy, had sat with him through all of it. 

As for Yennefer, as much as Eskel had many,  _ many  _ issues when it came to sorceresses he couldn't pretend as though she  _ wasn't _ part of Geralt's life. She even seemed like she could eventually be a fairly permanent fixture, if the two of them would decide whether they wanted to be together or not for good. She was beautiful, in the unworldly way that all sorceresses were. 

It was just sex, a favor for two friends. 

And yet Eskel didn't know. Somehow it felt riskier than anything he'd done before. Riskier than crawling into bed alongside a succubus for months on end. Riskier than putting entire year's worth of coin up his nose on a fisstech habit that was meant to numb his pains but never did quite enough. Those things were impersonal. Safe, somehow.

What Geralt was asking for him was explicitly not. 

Eskel squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring one of the goats which decided to ram its head into his leg. She'd probably keep on doing that until Eskel decided to either let them loose or feed them. He'd get to it. "You know that you're asking me for a lot, don't you?"

"We wanted to give you a chance to think about it," Geralt said softly, finally turning to face Eskel directly once more. "If you decide you aren't interested, you know that all you have to do is just say the word. We'll leave you alone and talk to the next best person." 

Eskel snorted, "I've already been told that the other two people here have been disqualified." 

"Yeah," Geralt's brow furrowed. "Jaskier was our most likely next option. Yen wouldn't be happy about it, though, I don't think." 

Eskel shook his head. "Make a guy feel like there's no option but to say yes." 

"You know I'm not trying to." 

"I'll let you know when I've decided," Eskel told Geralt, finally reaching down and catching the goat ramming into him by the horn. The animal twisted and tried to break his grip, but Eskel kept firm. "Sorry to be so bad about this." 

"Don't be," Geralt said, "It's a lot. You're right," He blinked. "The three of us should talk about it together, just to set expectations probably. Figure that's probably a lot of what has you locking up." 

"I won't deny it," Eskel breathed out. "How about... I meet the two of you after dinner."

"I was hoping for a bath after dinner," Geralt snorted. 

Eskel rolled his eyes. "You mean that Yennefer won't touch you unless you're clean and you don't want to come to her smelling like mortar." 

"She won't touch you if you smell bad either, wise guy," Geralt teased Eskel. "So you should get used to bathing more regularly. Know you sure as hell aren't used to it." 

Eskel snorted, "I can't usually pay well enough for a bathhouse or an inn you mean. Not everyone can get the cushy setups that you're used to." 

Geralt snorted, "And I could smell the river water on you when you arrived." 

Eskel laughed. "I've learned to make do. At least I put in the effort." He knew that it wasn’t all that much, but it was better than nothing. It was just all that he was capable of doing while he was out on the Path and sleeping in the woods most nights.

Geralt shoved Eskel lightly, playfully, in a way that very much mirrored how the two of them would roughhouse back when they were boys. Eskel laughed quietly, shoving Geralt back in kind. “I don’t mind cleaning up if that’s what it takes,” Eskel said, “but still. I want for the three of us to talk about this before… Before anything can happen. I don’t want to ruin a good thing or to be dragged into something I don’t have the full details on.” 

“When have I ever cut you out of the details of a conversation?” Geralt prodded. 

“You aren’t the one I’m worried about,” Eskel said truthfully. “We’ll meet after dinner. Clean up and talk. As long as she doesn’t mind the space being shared.” 

Geralt hummed. “I’ll talk to her. If she decides she doesn’t like it, I’ll let you know.” 

“Alright,” Eskel breathed. “We’ll talk later.”

“Later.” Geralt repeated, all too relaxed and at ease with the prospect of what was to come.

* * *

After their evening meal was finished, Eskel stayed behind long enough to help Vesemir clear the dishes. He did it more because he needed to calm his nerves than anything else, but helping  _ usually _ meant he got certain other chores easier later on. 

He was banished from the kitchens when Vesemir gave him a  _ look _ that indicated he knew that something was going on. Eskel strongly suspected that Vesemir had developed an extra sense for knowing when he and Geralt were getting into trouble back when they were kids, and it had simply never gone away.

At the time, it had been the only way to explain how Vesemir had been able to catch them on so many of their excursions and adventures. No matter where they were or what they were doing, Vesemir was  _ always _ one step behind them. He’d saved their asses more than once because of it, and then would also usually be the one to dole out whatever punishments necessary. 

At the time Vesemir just  _ knowing _ that they were up to something telepathically had made the most sense. Now that Eskel was older, he realized that he and Geralt were never halfway as sneaky or clever as they’d thought they were and Vesemir had merely put his enhanced senses to work.

“Go on,” Vesemir said, “I can tell you’re up to something and we’re about finished up with this anyways.” 

Eskel set down the silverware on a rack where it was always left to dry. “Are you sure?” He asked. 

“Of course,” Vesemir replied easily, “I also expect that you’ll be up early to help with breakfast anyhow.” 

Eskel thought about it, “I’ll milk Lil’ Bleater,” he offered, “we can figure out the rest in the morning. Maybe that fried bread that they make in Toussaint. Lambert usually likes that.” 

“I think we might have a stale loaf or two,” Vesemir commented, “Might even have some spices set aside we could put to use.” 

“We have eggs—”

“Are you leaving or not?” Vesemir prodded, “I know what I have around my damned keep, boy. Now leave me to manage it.” He stepped in close to Eskel and looked him in the eye. “You’ll be the warden of Kaer Morhen one day, but not yet. Enjoy your youth.”

“I’m ninety.” Eskel deadpanned.

“And I’m three hundred and thirty four,” Vesemir retorted, “now get out of my kitchen.”

Eskel took a moment to towel his hands off and left the room. He went up to his own bedroom to collect his clothes and prepare himself for a bath. 

A bath, that he was going to be sharing with Geralt and Yennefer, who were probably already down in the baths fucking each other at that very moment. He was going to walk down there and the second he got inside he was going to be hit immediately with the scent of Yennefer’s perfume, sex, hormones, and those salts that they tossed in the bath. 

Was he ready for that?

Eskel didn’t know. How  _ could _ he be ready, even under the best circumstances?

He walked down to the baths feeling not entirely unlike he was walking to face his own execution. Most witchers had been through an execution attempt at some point or another. Eskel had faced the gallows at least once himself, and had it not been for a well-timed axii he would have surely seen the noose himself. 

Of course, he felt bad afterwards because his signs were so powerful that he might as well have been smashing some poor bastard’s brain against the inside of their skull until it shared a consistency with scrambled eggs. But he’d lived and that had been what mattered. 

Eskel hesitated outside of the doors to the baths. 

He already knew what he was going to do. He was going to go in, undress in the little room with the tables off to the side, and then he was going to go in and join Geralt and Yennefer and hopefully not find himself in too bad of a spot because of it. 

He didn’t even manage to open the door before he heard from the bath’s two occupants. 

“Eskel, if you would stop worrying and just come in you’d be doing us quite a few favors!” Yennefer called, sounding a  _ little _ out of breath which confirmed some of Eskel’s suspicions. 

He swallowed and stepped inside. “Really reading my mind?” He called through a partition that only existed to block the baths from view as someone stepped into the dressing room. “I don’t appreciate it.”

“Nothing you can do to stop her,” Geralt piped up. He sounded a little hoarse. No question what they had been up to. “Just accept that it’s happening now.” 

Eskel grumbled under his breath because he still didn’t like mages of  _ any _ sort, but he undressed and set his clean clothes down on the table. His dirty clothes were kicked under for the moment, he’d collect them when he was clean and dry. 

He took his time, picked up the little sack of toiletries that he’d left down in the dressing room, and then went into the room with the baths. 

The two pools weren’t truly two pools. To call it a bathhouse was even being generous, all things considered. As far as Eskel understood, Kaer Morhen had been built on top of the cave where the springs had been found. The intention had been for the heat from the springs to rise and aid in heating the keep. It worked on the first floor, but not much of anywhere else. 

Before the pogrom, there had been mages constantly trying to experiment with how to make the hot mineral water run through the keep’s walls and heat the building that way. The experiment had never come to fruition however, and so the springs were turned into baths, water flowing in and out from holes in the walls that had been built specifically to ensure the water could move in and out without letting out the heat. A door on the far side of the room lead out into the valley, in case someone wanted to jump in the snow after a hot bath. 

Eskel personally never used that door. He didn’t see the appeal in freezing his balls off.

He looked between the two halves of the baths, separated by a stone wall that had benches carved into it. The only difference between the two was that one side was deeper and contained Geralt and Yennefer, and the other was shallower and did not. The boys had always used the shallow side. Eskel and Geralt had shared  _ a lot _ of baths in that half when they’d been young. 

Eskel considered taking his place on the shallow side, but decided against it. He slipped down into the deeper half of the bath, several feet away from Geralt and Yennefer just to ensure that everyone involved had some space. 

His heart was beating so hard that he was worried he was going to be sick. 

Eskel very pointedly  _ did not _ look at the two others. 

“Thanks for joining us,” Geralt said with a low rumble, water splashing quietly as Yennefer climbed out of his lap. Eskel knew what to expect if he looked over. He also quietly regretted joining them in the same side. “What took so long?” 

“Vesemir wanted to talk about breakfast,” Eskel halfway lied. “Decided to help him with the dishes.” 

Yennefer hummed, sinking down into the water across from Eskel. “I keep offering to help with that but he won’t accept the magical aid.” 

“He’s old fashioned,” Eskel mumbled, “Doesn’t trust mages much.” 

“Like you?” Yennefer prodded. 

“I’ve been given good reason not to,” Eskel turned away from Yennefer, reached for the soap that he’d brought with him, and began to scrub himself clean. Perhaps a little too roughly. “Me and Geralt aren’t the same.”

Geralt let out a low growl, the kind that would have suggested that Eskel was about to be tackled. At least, that was what it would have meant had Yennefer not been there to join them. But that was just how things tended to be when a bunch of boys were raised doing  _ everything _ communally. When they’d been very young it had been normal for boys to share beds because they needed the space. 

Eskel had spent more nights sharing sheets with Geralt than he had alone back then. He knew Geralt’s body, could probably name every scar if he wanted to. He even knew what it was to kiss Geralt, or to touch him, or to take him to bed as an adult would.

Geralt wasn’t the one that had him on uneven footing. Geralt never could. Nothing Geralt could ever do short of dying would be enough to throw Eskel off.

Yennefer let out a little sigh, “Have you considered our proposition?”

“Not even going to go for small talk?” Eskel asked. “No ‘hey, how are you, what did you think of training today?’” He was deflecting. He knew that he was deflecting. Eskel felt like he was going to be sick, so nervous he could barely breathe. 

Geralt, thankfully, decided to step in. “She won’t bite, Esk. Calm down.” 

Eskel snapped his head back to look at Geralt, almost too quickly. “I’ve seen the marks she’s left on you,” He reminded Geralt, “I know she bites.” 

For just a second, his gaze slipped over to Yennefer, who had sank down into the water enough that her breasts were covered. A light purple bruise bloomed on her collarbone, and Eskel didn’t have to guess at its origin. For a moment too long, Eskel knew his gaze lingered. 

“I only bite people that ask,” Yennefer said offhandedly, “If that’s truly what you’re concerned with.”

“It’s not,” Eskel looked back to the wall, going back to scrubbing himself and trying to think of anything else so that he wouldn’t find himself getting hard. He didn’t want to deal with the awkwardness that would come with it. “I’m—”

_ I’m worried that I’ll get in your way. I’m worried that you’ll decide I’m too ugly for you at any second. I’m worried that you’ll expect more of me than I’m able to give either of you. I’m not like you and that scares me. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m worried that you’ll realize that coming to me can only be a mistake. I’m worried that you don’t realize how people that try to be close to me always get hurt. _

He hesitated too long. 

Geralt spoke up, thankfully. Eskel could feel Yennefer’s gaze boring a way into the center of his back. 

Geralt, thankfully, knew how to distract him. “New scars. Didn’t mention them.”

Eskel blinked and took a breath. He knew the ones that Geralt was referring to. “Yeah,” Eskel said. “Contract turned out fine. Nothing to be concerned with.” 

Yennefer spoke, “Claw marks of some sort? Whatever it was surely tore into you.” 

Eskel swallowed. “Nekkers overwhelmed me while I was in my camp,” he lied, “Passed out from toxicity being too high, woke up just in time to fight them off.” 

“Blast of igni, right?” Geralt asked, and Eskel  _ knew _ that Geralt could sense the lie. 

“Aard, actually,” Eskel murmured. “I’m fine.” 

Geralt hummed. “Don’t look like nekker scratches.” 

“Look more like a lover’s scratches,” Yennefer said, “deep ones.” 

And she was  _ right.  _ Eskel just didn’t want to be the one to have to bring up the obvious reality that he’d fallen into bed with a succubus more than a few times and that one Fisstech-fueled session had gotten a little  _ out of hand _ in a lot of ways. Not that it had done anything to deter him from the endeavor. If anything, it had only bled into several more, equally vigorous sessions.

Yennefer’s head cocked to the side. “Interesting story,” She told Eskel. “We’ll keep it between us.” 

“ _ Stop doing that, _ ” Eskel growled at Yennefer. He didn’t need her in his head. He was too nervous about even being in the same room as her and Geralt at the same time. He didn’t need his every thought picked apart when it wasn’t necessary to do so. 

Geralt sighed, “You can try to stop her, but it won’t work,” he told Eskel. “Let’s just… move on. You can tell me the truth later.”

“I won’t tell you anything,” Eskel grumbled, “But yes, fine, let’s talk about this. Negotiate.” 

He couldn’t shake the feeling that the three of them had fallen straight into a stalemate that wasn’t going to be ending anytime soon. He didn’t even know how he was supposed to start. 

Yennefer, thankfully, was nothing if not diplomatic. “You’re concerned that our request would lead to you interfering in our relationship.” 

“I am,” Eskel replied. He was still turned away from Geralt and Yennefer, but he didn’t like the idea of trying to carry on a conversation about something so important when he had his back turned to them. He’d scrubbed his skin raw anyhow, so Eskel allowed himself to turn and face the two of them properly. “From what I understand, the last thing either of you need is someone else getting in the way.” 

Geralt swallowed. “That’s true,” he said, “but this is something that we’ve both discussed a lot. This isn’t anyone looking to cheat, this isn’t anyone looking for anything else. Just the two of us wanting to try something new. That’s all.” 

Eskel understood that. He just didn’t understand  _ why. _ He could understand the want for sexual exploration— that was what led to half of his worst endeavors in the first place. What he didn’t understand was twofold: why would they choose him, and why would they  _ want _ him. Being close to Geralt couldn’t possibly be enough. 

He frowned and looked down at the bath water in front of him instead of at Geralt and Yennefer. Just a little bit of space, he told himself, that was all. “You two aren’t sure you don’t have any better options?” He prodded. “Sure as hell are a lot of prettier people could choose to do this.” 

“Trust me when I say that you do not hold a monopoly on ugliness,” Yennefer piped up without any hesitation. “And that it is not a deterrent in this case.” 

“You aren’t ugly,” Geralt said quietly. Eskel felt bad for a moment because he knew for a fact that this was something that he and Geralt both struggled with. Geralt had thought himself ugly since the day that his hair had first changed color and his skin and gone pale and had never managed to break from the feeling entirely. 

Eskel hadn’t always been ugly. That was his problem, his curse. He was a witcher that had managed to be  _ vain _ and then  _ too distant _ and then he’d paid the price for his distance with his vanity. And he hadn’t known how to be close to anyone since, not truly. Not in any way that was meaningful.

“I don’t believe you,” Eskel said, “You’re the pretty one these days, Geralt. So if it’s not looks, then it’s—”

“It’s trust,” Geralt cut him off. “It’s because I know you and have known you for so long that I can trust you understand what this means.” Eskel quieted. “I can’t trust Lambert with this. I can’t trust Jaskier with this. Lambert would be too much of an ass and Jaskier doesn’t know how to shut up even at the best times.” 

Yennefer brushed her hair back over her shoulder. The ends of her curls had gotten wet. “Your aversions are understandable,” she said with far more tact than she probably should have used, “But understand that the choice  _ we _ made was one that came after much discussion. You were chosen because you can be trusted to use discretion, because you and Geralt are close, and because I’ve been led to believe you won’t threaten the relationship.” She watched him closely, and Eskel felt distinctly like a specimen about to be vivisected for his trouble. “I was told that you aren’t the type to get attached.” 

Eskel pushed his own hair back out of his face where it was falling down into his eyes. “I’m not. For good reason.” He glanced between the two of them, far more attractive than either of them had any damned right to be. 

And it was then that he knew, he  _ knew _ what his answer was. 

“Fine,” Eskel said, “we can talk more of the details over but… Yeah, okay. I’ll do it.”

Geralt eyed him. “Don’t make it sound so much like you’re taking a contract for Drowners at 10 orens a head.”

“It’s—”

“You know you are,” Geralt smirked and then he was moving forward and crossing the pool to get close to Eskel. Yennefer stayed where she was, but she did drape herself over the bath’s rim rather attractively. Geralt settled himself standing straight in front of Eskel, waist-deep in water. “This will be fine. We wouldn’t have asked if we didn’t think it was a good idea.” 

Eskel swallowed and stared up at Geralt. Geralt, who’d been the first person that Eskel  _ wanted _ in the flesh. Geralt, who had been a tentative first kiss back when Eskel was a scared boy and hadn’t understood himself well enough, if at all. Geralt, who had been there to stitch together his wounds in training, Geralt who had comforted him after the Grasses even though Geralt himself had been suffering with the results of the trial. Geralt, who had held Eskel’s hand when Sabrina Glevissig had magically saved Eskel’s eye after Deidre had nearly taken everything from him as retribution.

Geralt, who was and had always been the one constant in Eskel’s life. 

It wasn’t love, not romantically at least. It was something else entirely.

Eskel treasured it. 

He stared up at Geralt’s form. “You always did drag me into bad ideas, wolf,” Eskel said quietly, “And I’d rather not get my ass tanned because of you again.” 

“Won’t happen unless you ask her nicely,” Geralt offered Eskel his hand. “Promise. Besides, this is more meant to make me suffer than anything else.” 

Eskel stared at Geralt’s palm where a long-faded scar slashed across it. He brought up his right hand which bore a nearly identical scar and grabbed onto Geralt’s hand. Geralt hauled him up to his knees and into a hug which was awkward considering that while Geralt was waist-deep in water Eskel was taller and decidedly  _ not. _ Eskel clung onto Geralt, the same way that he would have every winter when Geralt finally decided to ride through the gates of Kaer Morhen again. 

“This is a bad idea,” Eskel whispered to Geralt, only to be silenced by Geralt shoving himself up onto the tips of his toes and into a kiss. 

Eskel kissed back, mostly because he didn’t know what else to do. 

“Bravo,” Yennefer said from her perch. She still didn’t move, and for that Eskel was grateful because he wasn’t sure that he was ready for her in that way just yet. Yennefer had a distinctly intimidating edge, not one that Eskel knew how to navigate either. “Now, would you two join me so we can finish talking, or are we done?” 

“We’ll finish talking,” Geralt said, “And then we’ll get to enjoy ourselves in a day or two when we’re all ready for it. Right?”He stared Eskel in the eyes. 

“Right,” Eskel echoed Geralt as he had many times over his life. “Of course.”

* * *

It was a full week before the any of their plans came to fruition.

And the scene was  _ planned.  _ Or at least, it was planned enough that the rudimentary script that had been laid out had also been thrown out and re-written. There were no lines to rehearse, but certain beats that Eskel, Geralt, and Yennefer had all agreed upon. Eskel didn’t consider himself an actor by any stretch of the imagination but what they’d come up with was more than doable. 

He didn’t even expect for the script to be followed completely, but having the plans in place proved to be a great comfort. 

The first two days after the bath had been spent discussing the scene, then the third had been devoted entirely to deciding upon potential magical means of restraint. Eskel’s suggestion to use the dimeritium shackles which were just laying around Kaer Morhen had been shot down with surprising speed. Yennefer had wanted to try something where she and she alone had the power to free Geralt. Geralt had also been opposed to the shackles on account that being cuffed with dimeritium hurt worse than a slow drip of arachas venom.

Eskel, frankly, agreed. It was merely what he knew was both on hand and sized for adults.

Yennefer simply decided upon an incantation that could do what she had in mind. The spell would immobilize Geralt in place, but it was also easy to break with the use of a specific keyword. She chose  _ ragamuffin _ and while Eskel had been curious to the reason for the choice, he did not ask. Only Yennefer would be able to break the spell. Eskel had the chaos to cast but not a lick of talent required as far as mastery of magic beyond signs went. An attempt to see whether Eskel could affect the spell had gone poorly, with no useful results.

The fourth day, Yennefer walked Eskel through her and Geralt’s room for the winter. In truth, it was just a suite that had formerly served the head mage back before the attack on Kaer Morhen but it didn’t matter. Eskel had never had much of a reason to go there before so he wasn’t exactly ungrateful for the walk through.

In fact he was quite  _ fortunate _ that she had it happen because otherwise he would have certainly been caught off guard by one of the items on display in the room. 

Specifically, a piece of extravagant and extremely specific taxidermy. 

Eskel stared at the stuffed beast in disbelief. “Please tell me that is not real,” He looked at Yennefer who strode close to the monstrosity in the corner. 

She reached out and danced her fingers over the snowy white fur of a stuffed unicorn, looked back at Eskel over her shoulder, and smiled at him. “Whether it’s real or not doesn’t matter, Eskel. Do you like it?” 

“Not sure what I’m supposed to like,” Eskel said. The unicorn stank of sex and Yennefer’s perfume. If not for its white coat, Eskel expected he would have been able to see stains of origins both dubious and obvious. “Definitely not like anything I’ve done.”

“Says the man with scars on his back from a roll in the hay with a succubus,” Yennefer teased him gently. Eskel was taken aback, but quickly quieted by Yennefer’s promise of discretion. She pet over the fur and sighed. “I enjoy being fucked on top of it. Geralt can’t stand it.”

“If that’s something you’re trying to bargain for, forget it,” Eskel crossed his arms over his chest. “Considering what you’re asking me to do I don’t need any extra distractions like having to try and stay on that damn thing.” 

“I was thinking that I make Geralt sit on it,” Yennefer smiled at Eskel, “as I said, he hates it. I imagine that it would end up being one more aggravation in the scene.” She stilled, “Imagine it, Eskel. You taking me on the bed, him here watching and wanting to do anything to get himself off but never being allowed the luxury of it. He’d be able to see everything from its back.” 

Eskel, admittedly, wasn’t sure that he could picture Geralt on top of a unicorn in the first place. It seemed like the sort of thing that he would have teased Geralt about endlessly, once. There had always been plenty of teasing regarding Geralt’s enjoyment of fairy tales back when they’d been children. Somehow, this felt like an odd extension of the little boy that had wanted to be a knight or even a mage. 

Yennefer offered Eskel her hand, and he strode forward and gave her his own. She paused when she took hold of him. “Geralt has the same scar,” she said quietly, looking down at his palm. Yennefer stroked her thumb over the raised scar, thoughtful.

“Yeah,” Eskel wanted to tear himself out of her grip. “Stupid kid things. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“A blood tie, was that the idea?” Yennefer asked, “You know that’s a very low form of blood magic. Though I doubt you would have realized it at the time.” 

Eskel snorted, “We read about it in a book,” he offered as his only explanation, “Some terrible novel that one of the witchers had left at the keep after one winter.” Eskel shrugged, “It had seemed like a good idea at the time.” 

“I’m certain you were adorable children,” Yennefer bit back with what didn’t feel like a single ounce of sarcasm. 

“If you like matching scars, I promise you Geralt and I have more than just the one,” Eskel said quietly, “just not with as good of stories.” 

“The Grasses, you mean?” 

“Yes,” Eskel pulled his hand away and tapped at the inside of his arm, in the nook of his elbow. Sure enough, there was the long-faded scar where he’d been cut open so that the tubing for the trial could be put in. “Like I said, not a nice story.”

“I apologize,” Yennefer replied, “I’d rather not discuss our most painful scars anyhow. We’re looking to enjoy ourselves.” 

“Right.”

Yennefer sought something in Eskel’s eyes, but he didn’t know what and it left him wrong-footed. He tore his gaze away from her, looked from the unicorn and then to the bed. 

The biggest bed in Kaer Morhen, as a matter of fact. 

By comparison Eskel's own bed was almost child sized, meant for one person to spend a single season in. It was meant to be easily replaced if the need arose and that was a good thing because it didn't take much for something to destroy a witcher's room. When he was a boy, there'd even been an incident where his sheets had come out slightly scorched when he and Geralt had slipped off after dinner to the barrack to work on their signs. 

Eskel had been aiming for the candle wick across his bed while he'd knelt on the ground. He'd managed to light the candle, just he lit the bed in the same moment. If not for his own aard, the whole thing would have burned to bits. 

He deserved the hiding that he'd gotten for the incident. Geralt had been the one to patch him up after. Two days later, Eskel had been pushed harder than the other boys in their sign training and the intensity had never eased.

Looking at the bed that Geralt and Yennefer apparently had been sharing over the inter in lieu of using Geralt's room, Eskel felt an odd stab of jealousy. Being able to stretch out so much seemed nice. He doubted he'd be sleeping there, but he could at least take advantage of the extra space that he'd have while he was there. 

"You're sure the view will be good?" Eskel asked, awkwardly clenching and unclenching his fingers. He didn’t like being so nervous. "Because—" 

"If you have a problem with its placement, we can easily move it. You witchers are good for the heavy lifting anyhow." 

Eskel frowned. "Sure it'll be fine," He dismissed the thought. Mostly he wanted to move the unicorn about as much as he wanted to move the bed. He didn't want much part in either task. It was the winter, he was there to  _ relax. _ "Looks comfy." 

"I can assure you it's exquisite," Yennefer strode forward and dropped down onto the bed, crossing one leg over the other. "Very supportive." 

Eskel stood back and simply watched Yennefer. She was beautiful. She was beautiful and she was looking at him like she might have actually wanted him. It was not the look of the women that he paid to go to bed where they saw him as a monster more than anything else. It was not the look of the succubus he went to bed with every few seasons, always hungry and demanding and leaving no argument as to whether or not he belonged there in her bed. 

Instead, Eskel didn't know what he was supposed to think. 

"I'll take your word for it," Eskel said, flicking his gaze away from Yennefer to try and help himself relax at least a little bit. "I'm sure I'll get to know firsthand sooner than later." 

Yennefer cocked her head to the side. "You could join me now." 

"Rather not," Eskel strode away from the bed and Yennefer and he was thankful that she could not smell his lust in the same way that Geralt would. Perhaps she could, but not as acutely as Geralt would. Maybe it wasn’t a  _ smell  _ she picked up on. "Would prefer we have Geralt here for that." 

She hummed quietly, "Geralt will be glad to see you here," Yennefer said, "I do hope that you're aware of that."

"Not so sure," Eskel shrugged, "I still don't know that I get what he's getting out of this, exactly." 

"You don't have to understand," Yennefer's voice was soft. 

"No," he breathed, "I don't. What you two have asked me to do is pretty damn simple and yet I still feel like I'm going to find some way to mess it up." 

Yennefer pat the space on the bed next to her again. "Sit." 

Eskel scowled at her. 

Yennefer narrowed her eyes and cocked her head to the side. The demand was so clear that Eskel couldn't have possibly missed it and yet he wasn't sure that he wanted to indulge. Having separation was good. Separation was how he made sure that the people around him managed to stay safe at the end of the day. Being on the Path and being lonely was a good thing because he couldn't  _ possibly  _ hurt anyone else by letting them get too close. 

"I'd rather not," Eskel repeated. "If that's quite alright." 

"I was hoping that you and I could talk." 

"There's nothing to talk about," Eskel said with a shrug. "In a few days we'll be in here, and I'll fuck you. That's all that really needs to be talked about, isn't it? Nothing personal." 

Yennefer frowned. "I'm not sure whether you are being confident in your abilities or whether you're trying to avoid me, Eskel. I'd thought it would be beneficial for you and I to share what we’d like from each other." 

Eskel blinked. "I was under the impression that you'd be taking control in the scene." 

Yennefer smiled, cocky. "So it would seem that you actually do try to pay attention at least part of the time. I'm sure you know that Geralt likes to be bossed about at this point." 

"I don't think there's anyone in the keep that  _ isn't _ aware of that," Eskel said, "Most years we get back here and we don't have anything to do but maintain the building, drink, and eat. Stories get traded over drinks and cards. I've heard a lot of things about everyone here, more than I'd like to know in most cases." 

Yennefer shook her head. "I don't know what I expected to hear." 

"Neither do I," Eskel teased, "so we push Geralt around a bit. He won't hate it." 

"I'd like to know what you like," Yennefer said, "You don't seem like the dominant type to me." 

Eskel stilled and quieted, and decided only then to watch Yennefer. She smiled and for a moment Eskel was reminded of a griffon preening. Dangerous and beautiful and fully capable of hurting anything that dared to get too close. He swallowed hard, "What do I seem like?" 

"You seem like you are eager to serve," Yennefer kept her voice down. "But not eager to submit." 

Eskel kept himself quiet. 

"In fact—" Yennefer picked up a hand and brought it in close to Eskel's face like she wanted to brush his hair away from his eyes. It took everything in his power not to shy away immediately. "I have the impression that you're so used to controlling the things around you that you don't get the things that you actually want." 

"I'm a witcher," Eskel spoke and felt empty when he did so. "I don't get the things that I want. It's part of the territory. I'm not like you, I don't get to be attractive and bury myself in books and nice things. I can’t wrap people around my fingers or tug them along." 

Yennefer pulled her hand back away from him. Eskel decided to keep on going, perhaps against his better judgment. 

"I don't get people that want to be at my side," he said, "I don't get people that are even willing to look at me. I've gotten used to it." 

Yennefer sighed, "I can assure you that my life is not so charmed. Being valued for beauty is many times more of a curse. The people desperate to be at my side rarely want anything beyond beauty. Geralt sees past my skin, that's why I keep him close." She looked up at the ceiling and away from Eskel. "And I'm sure you know that books and fine clothes are not a replacement for anything significant. After all—" Her eyes glinted dangerously. "You are a  _ witcher _ . You've learned to boil your entire existence down to the swords on your back and whatever you can fit in your saddlebags. You know that there's no comfort or freedom in that, even though you have no obligation to places or people or anything else. You are a tool, no better than the hammer in a smith's forge or the shovel used to remove shit from a stable. The only warmth you see in your life is here, in Kaer Morhen." 

Yennefer caught his face then, cupping his jaw with her hand. "We are offering you a night of warmth. If you choose to take us up on it, we'd appreciate it."

"It's a night," Eskel bit back at her. "Not a lifetime. I'm not going to allow myself to confuse it for anything more."  _ I don't know that I'm even capable of it anymore. _

Yennefer's thumb stroked over his cheek, catching on his ragged scars. 

Eskel felt bile rise in his throat at the feeling of it. People never touched him, especially not there. He didn't allow it from anyone else with the sole exception of Geralt. He'd allowed Vesemir to try and help back when he'd fist gotten the injury. Eskel didn't allow it anymore, though. Having Vesemir trying to take care of him just left him feeling like the scared little boy, desperate for a mother he’d never see again.

The idea that a woman might want to touch his scars for any reason other than to hurt was so foreign that Eskel didn't know what to do with himself. 

"I trust you to know your own needs," Yennefer pulled back away from Eskel quickly, making it entirely too clear that she'd been able to get a glimpse into his thoughts. "You would tell me if you are intimidated by what we've proposed?" 

"You're intimidating," Eskel said truthfully, "I think I can see what Geralt sees in your because of it."

Yennefer watched him closely. "And the act we're going to be doing? Does that intimidate you?"

"It's just sex," Eskel replied, "and I've already been with Geralt like that so it's really a matter of what happens between you and I." 

Yennefer nodded, "Would you like to hear what I think?" She asked him. "Of what you've been saying and how you're handling it?" 

"What do you think?" Eskel asked, "If you're so inclined towards getting into my head like this." 

"I think that you just aren't prepared for the fact that you've been asked to join us," Yennefer remarked, "I think that you're so used to rejection that you're waiting for the other shoe to drop and you're  _ always  _ waiting for the other shoe to drop." She caught him by the chin and tilted his head so that Eskel looked her directly in the eyes. "You expect that one or both of us is going to choose to reject you the moment we get in the room," She locked her gaze with Eskel's. "You think we'll take one look at you and decide you're not worth this. You expect to be replaced, and I think you always have expected to be replaced.“ 

Eskel felt a chill run down his spine. He couldn't recall the last time that he'd been picked apart so easily, and especially by someone that he hadn't grown up with. Geralt had the ability to get to the core of him like that, but Geralt had been there since he was a boy on his first night of training. Geralt had history to provide context. 

All Yennefer had was whatever she'd managed to hear— Eskel didn't think that Geralt was really the type to share such things, and whatever she'd observed, and whatever she'd scraped directly out of his mind. 

He swallowed hard. "Is that so hard to understand?" Eskel asked Yennefer, not sure what else there was that he could say. "You two could do a lot better than me. I understand the reasoning for the choice, but I'm not sure that I really understand it is all." 

Yennefer cocked her head to the side, "You don't think that you're below relationships." 

"I don't know," Eskel sighed, "I think that they just aren't for me. To inflict my life on someone else would be..."

"Selfish?"

" _ Cruel _ ," Eskel found the word that he was looking for, "I'm glad you've been able to make it work with Geralt, even if things aren't perfect between the two of you. I'm just not sure that I could put someone else through it." 

Yennefer raised an eyebrow, no doubt reading him. 

Eskel shrugged, "I've never had someone that's wanted me in that sort of way, anyways. It's easier not to get attached, or to find someone who has..."

"Comparable baggage," Yennefer finished for him, "Is that why you have your succubus?" 

"Part of it," Eskel laughed, "No expectations on either side. I don't have to worry about getting hurt or hurting anyone else." 

"And now you're being given an invitation which also comes with no expectations, so I find it hard to see what you find so difficult to grasp," Yennefer replied, "Is it me?" 

"It's you, it's Geralt. It's that you're inviting me into the middle of something I'm not sure I belong in the middle of, even if it's only for a single night," Eskel quieted, "you can say it's just sex all you want, but it's not. It's me being brought into the middle of you and Geralt when as I understand it the last thing either of you need is someone else interfering." 

"It's not interference if you've been invited," Yennefer looked deep into Eskel's eyes, and he didn't do anything to break the eye contact. "I'd prefer it if you tried to keep that in mind for your own sake." 

She was so close. So close that he could reach out and touch her if he chose to, end yet Eskel wasn’t sure that he wanted to do so. He wanted to peel himself away from Yennefer just as much as he wanted to lean in and—

_ And her lips look so soft, _ Eskel thought to himself,  _ like flower petals. She’s undamaged. _

Yennefer took the initiative, pressing herself in towards Eskel and then pushing herself up against his frame. Eskel barely got a chance to say anything before Yennefer was kissing him like he was someone that she really  _ wanted _ , or like she didn’t care about the notch in his lip or the scars raking down his face or his shattered teeth.

Eskel allowed his mind to take the back seat, and he kissed back, glad for just the momentary contact where there had been so little before.

Everything else would have to come after.

* * *

After dinner, Eskel left to find Geralt in his room, desperate for the chance to speak to his oldest friend alone, at least for a little while. 

Thankfully, Geralt had made finding him easy since he’d decided to depart from the hall early. Apparently he hadn’t been in the mood to gamble his coin away to Lambert, who seemed to line his pockets solely for the purpose of buying better gwent cards when the spring came. Eskel didn’t play the game like the two of them did, so he didn’t know all the details. He was, however, continually surprised by the asking price of some of the cards when he learned of them. 

“Come in,” Geralt called before Eskel even managed to get close enough to the door to knock. Eskel rolled his eyes and pushed the door open.

The white wolf was stretched out on his bed, one arm pillowing his head and the other draped over his stomach. He looked like he had been hoping to get a nap more than anything else. It had been a hard day of work, a nap was more than welcome.

Eskel missed napping with Geralt. They’d done it a lot as boys. They’d get released from class with Master Barmin. The old man would do his best to teach them their letters and try to coach them through memorizing the bestiaries. After spending all morning training, they always slipped off after their lunch to climb into bed for a nap. Between the physical and mental exertion, the rest was sorely needed.

Most of the boys would do it, really, but Eskel had always found himself piled in with Geralt because that was just how they were. It was how they’d always been.

Some days, the two of them would even be scolded for napping too long and Vesemir would have to drag them out to the pendulum by their ears to make up for the lost time.

Eskel sat down on the edge of Geralt’s bed. “Early to be getting to bed,” he commented as easily as he could. “Getting old, Geralt.” 

Geralt snorted, “You’re older than me,” he smiled, not looking at Eskel. “No room to talk.” 

“We don’t know that for sure,” Eskel pointed out the fact of the matter. He and Geralt were roughly the same age but neither knew who had been born first and the amount of speculation on the matter had never worked to demystify the issue. Vesemir refused to help, which only dragged the matter out infinitely. “You could be older than me. Got the hair for it, at least.” 

Geralt grumbled and cracked an eye open to meet Eskel’s gaze. “Surprised you’re not down drinking with Lambert,” he said, “Figured you would have hit the bottle.” 

Eskel shrugged, “I wanted to talk to you,” he sighed, “figured I’d get you alone for a bit.” 

“Getting me alone?” Geralt teased gently, “Not like you.” 

“Yeah, well—” Eskel glanced to the door, “Yen’s intimidating. Figured just seeing you might make me feel less… weird about it.” 

Geralt turned to face Eskel, reached out and grabbed him by the arm. Eskel went easily and laid down at Geralt’s side. Laying beside him willingly was always preferable to being wrestled into position, which  _ would _ happen if Eskel resisted. “She told me that you kissed her,” Geralt mumbled, “during your walk through.” 

“More like she kissed me,” Eskel mumbled, “I don’t like that she reads my mind.”

“It takes getting used to,” Geralt said all too easily, like he didn’t even  _ care _ that he didn’t have his thoughts to himself. “You’ll adjust.” 

Eskel wasn’t sure. He reached out and placed his hand on Geralt’s belly, signaling as subtly as he could that he wanted to curl in together properly. The bed certainly had enough room for it. Geralt tugged Eskel in until the two of them laid side by side, touching in so many places but never managing to do so intimately. 

“Tomorrow’s the day,” Geralt reminded Eskel, “stop being nervous about it.” 

“Easier said than done,” Eskel replied, “you know the nerves won’t go away until we’re in the room and in the middle of it.” 

Geralt snorted, “and even then they won’t go away.” 

“Yeah,” Eskel mumbled, closing his eyes. “How much has she told you?” 

Geralt hummed quietly at the same time that Eskel felt a hand get placed on his head. Geralt scratched at his scalp. “She hasn’t told me anything,” Geralt answered so nonchalantly that Eskel  _ ached. _ If he could have been so careless with the matter, his life would have been much easier, he thought. “Just the basics of what’ll happen once we’re in the room. I think she’s hoping to keep as much under wraps as she can until it’s happening.”

“Alright,” Eskel breathed. “Promise me you’ll let us know if something’s wrong.”

Geralt’s scratching continued, the pads of his thumbs pressing against Eskel’s temples. Back after the trials, they’d both suffered a lot of headaches as their bodies had tried to adjust to the mutagens and their new enhanced senses. Geralt massaged Eskel’s head in the same way that he had back when they were boys, Geralt having recovered faster from the grasses while Eskel had been feverish and bed-bound. 

Later, Eskel had returned the favor. He’d tended to Geralt day and night even when he wasn’t supposed to, and he’d even whipped for his disobedience over the matter. Vesemir had been there to quiet him after and try to comfort him, Vesemir had _understood_ , at least a little bit. Maybe he hadn’t understood how it felt to have someone that felt like a part of him taken and tortured. Maybe he didn’t understand what it was to wake up with friends dead, only to watch his remaining friends taken into the labs to be put through trials again, while Eskel and only one other boy had been spared as an _insurance policy._

Of course Eskel had clung onto Geralt when he’d survived. How couldn’t he?

A wave of emotion overtook him, so he turned himself into Geralt and tucked his face into his closest friend’s shoulder. He hugged Geralt close, and was glad when Geralt made no protest over it.    
“I’ll tell you if something is wrong,” Geralt promised, “so will Yen. Neither of us expect anything to go wrong though.” He squeezed Eskel’s shoulders, in a way that was terribly familiar. “It’ll be fun. For everyone, hopefully.” 

Eskel nodded. “It’ll go away,” he murmured into Geralt’s collar, “once it starts.” 

“It will,” Geralt assured Eskel, “Vesemir and Lambert will be out hunting anyways so there’s nothing to worry about when it comes to them.” 

“That’s good to hear,” Eskel said quietly. “I hadn’t even thought about them…”

“Yeah, that’s because you get too far into your own head,” Geralt nudged him playfully, “Yen took care of it.” 

Eskel let out a slow breath, “Tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow night,” Geralt echoed, “trust me, Esk?”

“Always, Wolf.”

“I’m glad,” Geralt said, “You can always trust me.” 

“I know.” 

“I can always trust you,” Geralt reminded him, “it’ll be fine.” 

“Yeah,” Eskel did feel a little bit reassured. “Maybe I just need to sleep on it, stop thinking about this so much.” 

“Maybe,” Geralt replied, “I won’t kick you out for the night, but Yen probably will when she decides she feels like getting some sleep.” 

Eskel nodded. “Just let me stay for a bit.”

“Of course,” Geralt squeezed Eskel once more. “Never threw you out when we were kids either.” 

Eskel let out a snort of amusement, “Yeah, because if you threw me out you would have had to share with someone else  _ or _ you would have gotten to shiver your way through the night.” He propped himself up enough so that he could look down at Geralt, who didn’t even bother to take his hands away from Eskel’s head. 

“Maybe you’re right,” Geralt admitted, “Should probably take a bath as soon as Lambert and Vesemir leave tomorrow,” he seemed to straighten up at the thought. “Yen likes us clean. She’ll probably have the room ready before we’re even cleaned up.” 

Eskel hummed, “Any plan for dinner?” 

“Stew,” Geralt sighed, “if Yen feels like it she’ll spruce it up magically too.”

Eskel scowled. “Do I want to know what that’s supposed to mean?”

“Illusions,” Geralt said with a shrug, “They make things taste like they aren’t Lambert’s cooking at least. Doesn’t trick the stomach, but it’s the taste that matters anyways.” 

Eskel nodded along, not entirely sure that he wanted to try illusionary food of  _ any  _ sort. Somehow he didn’t even know if he’d be able to fall for it once he knew that there was magic in place.

“I… understand,” Eskel said after a long moment, feeling far from confident. “Is there anything else I need to know?” 

“Mm,” Geralt considered the question, “Nothing I could tell you. Yennefer should have told you everything you need to know by now anyways.”

And Yennefer had told Eskel  _ plenty _ but still he felt like there was something that he didn’t know. There had to be  _ something _ that he was missing. Eskel pillowed his head on Geralt’s shoulder once more, drinking in the close contract for as long as he could. 

“This is such a bad idea,” Eskel grumbled. 

“It’s going to be fine,” Geralt reassured Eskel once more, and Eskel couldn’t shake the feeling that he was becoming too repetitive. ”If you really hate it that much, just tell her no. I won’t be upset. She probably won’t be either.“ 

“Probably?” 

“I’m not her, I can’t promise you how she’ll react.” 

“Right,” Eskel closed his eyes. “Last time I let you talk me into something stupid. Would have thought I’d learned after the fourth time when we were kids but apparently not.” 

Geralt snorted, “Half the time it was  _ you _ with the bad ideas. At least this time Vesemir won’t be dragging us back to the keep or taking his belt to our backsides.” 

“Depending on how badly this goes, he might have to,” Eskel jabbed Geralt in the ribs with two fingers in a way that was all too familiar. “And I’ll be sure to blame you and Yen for all of it.” 

“Yeah,” Geralt laughed, “That’s fair. He’ll probably believe you too. You always were the teacher’s pet.” 

“You were always his favorite,” Eskel reminded Geralt, “ _ I  _ was just the one that actually paid attention during training and classes. I was never anybody’s favorite back then.”

He jolted at the feeling of two of Geralt’s fingers jabbing into his own rib cage, right between two ribs. Eskel spasmed at the feeling and Geralt took advantage to flip them so that he was on top of Eskel, bracketing his body with his own. 

“That’s a lie,” Geralt grinned down at Eskel, all teeth and his yellow eyes dilated. “You were always  _ my  _ favorite. And I’m pretty sure Master Barmin’s too.” 

“Geralt—”

“Vesemir’s too, probably. You don’t see him asking me to take care of Kaer Morhen when he decides he’s finally going to retire.” Geralt didn’t need to suggest the rest. He didn’t have to say out loud that Vesemir would never retire, only die. They both knew that perfectly well. Eskel  _ dreaded _ it.

Eskel quieted, not sure what else to say. 

“Right,” he sighed, quiet. “We’ll see if I’m still anyone’s favorite tomorrow.” 

“It’ll be fine.” 

“Easy for you to say.” 

“You’re the one that’s going to be fucking  _ my— _ ”

“All you have to do is watch!” 

Geralt rolled his eyes and instead of a jab in the ribs, Eskel received a punch in the arm for his troubles as Geralt sat back on his heels, still leaning over top of Eskel. “Last time I ever ask you for anything.” 

“You’ll come crawling back,” Eskel shoved Geralt off of him and climbed out of the bed. He smiled back at Geralt, soft as ever. “You always have.”

“So have you,” Geralt pointed out, “It’ll be fine. Get some rest and you’ll feel better in the morning. If you don’t, back out. Nobody will be mad.” 

Eskel nodded, heading towards the door. He hesitated there, hand hovering over the latch so that he could leave. “Thanks, Geralt.”

“It’s not a problem,” Geralt mumbled, “You would have done the same.” 

“Yeah,” Eskel breathed, “You’re right. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“G’night,” Geralt said quietly. “Be here if you decide you need me.” 

Eskel laughed. “Thanks, Geralt. Truly. Goodnight, Wolf.” 

And so he left and went back to his room so that he could get some rest. His head felt a lot clearer than it had earlier, at the very least. I was better than  _ nothing. _


	2. The Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yennefer, Eskel, and Geralt all get what they want

Eskel went to Geralt and Yennefer’s room, recently bathed and wearing loose-fitting clothes that would be easy to get out of. His heart was beating hard against his chest, so hard that Eskel couldn’t even begin to forget that everything they’d been planning was coming to fruition. Nothing he’d been able to do over the course of the day had been nearly enough to settle his nerves.

With him he carried a bottle of Mahakaman Spirit, intended as a gift for Yennefer even though he didn’t know if the drink would be to her liking. If he’d had anything better in his personal stores, he would have brought it instead. 

They were going to be on the other side of the door, waiting for him. He didn’t know what he was going to find when he went through the door either. What they’d discussed was still fresh in his mind but somehow that didn’t seem like enough to fill in the blanks and ease his anxieties. 

The end result was that Eskel felt more like he was walking to an execution than a night of sex.

He hesitated on the other side of the door, closed his eyes, and took in a breath to try and calm himself down, just until he went through. 

“-here,” said Geralt on the other side of the door, though Eskel missed whatever he’d said before it. “Should I—”

“You’re going to go to the unicorn, and you are going to  _ wait,”  _ Yennefer bit it out and it was anything but a request. “I will see to  _ my  _ guest. I know that you’d love to be able to get involved since that is always your intent, but you know that I won’t allow you anything else.” 

“Yen—” Geralt’s voice dropped in volume and pitch alike. “He’d like having us both.” 

“And you know that the intent was that it was only for him to have me,” Yennefer reiterated. “Now go sit on the unicorn, quiet down, and wait. I’d hate to have to force you to do it. And you know just as well as I do that’s not an empty threat.” 

As far as pillow talk went, it was far from the worst that Eskel had ever heard. Really, it was more intimidating than anything.

He could smell the scent of both of them, but mostly Yennefer’s lilac and gooseberries. He felt himself start to get hard, reached down and palmed himself for just a moment. He was  _ very _ glad that Lambert and Vesemir were out fishing. If they weren’t, he would never be able to live it down. 

On the other side of the door Eskel could hear Geralt clambering up onto the stuffed unicorn, and the quiet sound of silk on bare skin, then the sound of Yennefer’s quiet footsteps toward the door. 

Eskel allowed himself to knock. He still had a role to play in the scene, and he needed to make sure he carried it out. He wasn’t stalling, just giving Yennefer and Geralt a chance to sort themselves before he stepped in, at least that was what Eskel told himself.

The door opened. Yennefer was dressed in a robe that wasn’t made from silk, but rather delicate looking black lace on thin white fabric. It was tied loosely, so loosely that her torso was left mostly exposed. Underneath the robe there was a small bodice which supported her breasts. Eskel swallowed hard at the sight. 

“Yennefer,” Eskel greeted her quietly, “I came like you asked.” 

She smiled at him, and for the first time Eskel noticed the mole on her chin. It in no way detracted from her appearance, not in the ways that his own scarring did. “So you have,” Yennefer purred, “and you even brought a gift? I was told that you could be painfully polite, Eskel, but this truly takes the cake.” 

Eskel offered the bottle and Yennefer took it, holding it so that she could read the label. 

“An interesting vintage,” Yennefer remarked, “if I remember correctly, wasn’t there a terrible storm?” 

Eskel blinked, “I wouldn’t know,” He admitted as she welcomed him inside. Eskel closed the door behind him, careful to keep the proceedings as normal as he could possibly manage. “I can’t say that I’ve ever been to Mahakam.” 

“Why?” Yennefer asked, “You don’t seem to dislike the cold.”

“Mahakam doesn’t like outsiders,” Eskel reminded Yennefer gently. She led him over towards a table in the middle of the room. There were two seats, one on each side. Yennefer gestured for Eskel to sit while she collected two cups. Eskel cast a glance to Geralt, who sat on the stuffed unicorn in the corner in only his braies. Their eyes met, and Eskel nodded to Geralt to signal that they were fine. Eskel brought his attention back to Yennefer as she seated herself across from him. “The truth is that I won that off of a dwarf in a game of dice.”

Yennefer poured both glasses, “Mahakaman spirit is awfully strong,” she remarked, “I hope you’ll excuse me if I decide to lessen the taste.” 

Eskel picked up his glass and toasted Yennefer, “I like the burn,” Eskel remarked, “but if you would prefer a Toussaintois red, I can hardly blame you.” 

Yennefer clinked her glass against Eskel’s. “I’m simply glad that you’ve come to see me,” Yennefer crossed one leg over the other, and Eskel wasn’t able to stop himself from glancing down to her thighs. “I know that you must have had other things to do.” 

“Yeah,” Eskel took his first sip, “Lots of masonry work to do, always. Goats to milk, windows that need covering.”

Yennefer sipped the drink Eskel had given her, scowled momentarily, and then muttered a quiet incantation. Eskel watched as the spirit turned to a deep red. Even the  _ smell _ was correct. Yennefer caught him staring and smiled, ever so slightly. 

“It’s a simple spell,” Yennefer explained, “though perhaps a bit vulgar by the standards of Aretuza. Thank you for bringing the gift,, Eskel.” 

“Seemed like the polite thing to do,” Eskel said. “And regardless of the circumstances, one can always at least try to be polite.” 

Yennefer quirked an eyebrow, “I’ve the sudden impression that my mentor would have loved you. But I’d prefer if you not toy with me, Eskel. I know about your little experiments.”

Eskel drank. “Experiments?” He asked her, “All I’ve done is try to grow some mushrooms in storage through a controlled manner.”

Yennefer smirked at him from over the top of her glass. “I can see that you considered my proposal,” she remarked out of nowhere. “You seem to have come dressed comfortably, at the least.” 

“Not as comfortable as you,” Eskel’s gaze flicked down to Yennefer’s body and her partially bared chest.

Yennefer glanced down at herself, feigning surprise over her being in her small clothes. “This?” She asked, “I think you’d find it’s hardly unusual fare for a sorceress to wear. If anything, I’m being modest.”

“That sounds correct in my experience,” Eskel replied quietly, “It’s a good look. I mean, you look good.” Eskel stumbled over his words, feeling awkward once more. 

“Mm,” Yennefer hummed, drained the rest of her glass, and stood up. When the robe she’d covered herself in fell open, Yennefer made no move to correct it or adjust the garment. “I’m sure that I can think of better ways to present myself,” She cocked her head to the side, examining Eskel in a way that made him feel like he was about to be strapped down on some mage’s table. A nightmare he’d had many times over since his boyhood. “And I can think of better ways that I could see you, Eskel.”

“Maybe so.” 

“I know so,” Yennefer gestured in the direction of the bed. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable?” 

Eskel glanced over. “Wouldn’t it be improper?” 

“It would,” Yennefer’s lips quirked up at the corners, “and perhaps that is part of the appeal in this matter. Now, I’d like to ask you to join me for the rest of the evening, I shouldn’t have to remind you that I’ve asked you here for a reason. No need to leave once the liquor stops pouring.” 

Eskel glanced back up at where Geralt was perched on the unicorn, for just a moment. Geralt hadn’t moved all all, but his pupils were blown wide and dark. The front of his braies were tented and even stained dark with dampness. Their eyes met and Eskel was glad for the smile that Geralt gave him in response, as much as assurance as it was anything else. 

“Do try to pay less attention to him,” Yennefer instructed Eskel from just across the table. Eskel’s attention snapped over to Yennefer instead of Geralt. “He’s more furniture than anything else tonight. And with good reason.” 

Eskel swallowed, “He’s your—” 

“He’s a  _ boor  _ is what he is,” Yennefer cut Eskel off, “Perhaps if he attempted to emulate your level of politeness he wouldn’t be sitting over there. This is a punishment for him, quite plainly.” 

“Suppose so,” Eskel said, “It would be good manners for me to walk away.” 

“And I am requesting that you stay,” Yennefer asked, “And I’m asking you as your hostess for the evening. I’m sure you wouldn’t be so improper as to try and leave?” 

They both went still and silent over the very suggestion of it. In that moment Yennefer had weaved a web which Eskel would ot be able to untangle himself from without making a righteous ass of himself. Their eyes met for a moment in a challenge, and Eskel tilted his head to the side, put on a polite smile like he had so many times before. 

For the first time, he felt almost at ease. It was a game, he reminded himself. Constructed for the sake of an evening.

"You are correct, Lady Yennefer," Eskel said, setting his drink down on the table. "I wouldn't want to cause any offense." 

Yennefer tossed her black curls over her shoulder. "If you wish not to cause an offense, I'd recommend starting by not calling me Lady Yennefer when you've come to me bearing only a first name to be called by with no titles or even homeland attached,  _ Witcher Eskel _ . Unless you would prefer I call you Master Witcher?"

Eskel shook his head. "Of course not," he replied, "it's a silly title even when its appropriate to use. I can never help but think that fatherless boys don't get titles of that sort, and yet there's one for men just like me. I’m no master of anything." 

Yennefer offered him her hand. "I should remind you of my own name," she told him as Eskel took it in his own, shifting their positions so that he lead her as was more proper. Yennefer looked up into Eskel's eyes, her own violet gaze blazing with a challenge. " _ Of Vengerberg  _ hardly denotes an origin of wealth or standing." 

"But you are a  _ sorceress _ ," Eskel reminded her, " The treasure of any court you decide to sit at. No sleeping in ditches and barns for you." 

Yennefer gripped Eskel's hand and in one fluid motion changed the positions of their hands once more so that she could lead. "If you are so opposed to sleeping in ditches and barns and heaps of dung," Yennefer didn't glance away form him for a second, "I believe I have the ability to provide accommodations you'll find to be more than satisfactory." 

“Is that so?” Eskel asked, somewhat amused. But still he couldn’t stop himself from stealing a glance at Geralt, who sat on the unicorn. If it were possible, Eskel could have pictured Geralt with his skin flushed pink. He didn’t listen too closely, but if Eskel allowed himself to focus on Geralt at all he would have heard the labored breathing underneath the occasional whine. 

Geralt would be cared for, Eskel had been assured of that much, but not until later on. Not until he and Yennefer had played their part in their little game. 

Yennefer tugged Eskel along behind her towards the bed. She stopped him just as the backs of his legs brushed up against the mattress. Eskel stilled herself there, and Yennefer took the chance to rest a hand on his chest, fingers just barely trying to slip under the collar of his shirt to feel his bare skin instead of his linen shirt. 

“Would you join me?” Yennefer stared up into his eyes at the same moment that she began to pick the knots at his collar apart. “I did invite you over to ensure that I’d have company for a night.” 

Eskel glanced back over to Geralt, whose eyes were fixated on the two of them so intently that Eskel could practically  _ feel _ Geralt staring through his back. It wasn’t something that he needed to be thinking about, yet there he was. Geralt was meant to be in the background of the scene, and yet Eskel was having a hard time just ignoring him. 

He took a breath and stared down at Yennefer, even as she slipped her hand under the shirt he wore entirely to feel his scarred chest. “If you wanted company, you could have just gone to Geralt.” 

“As I said,” Yennefer teased, “He’s a terrible boor. I requested you because I wanted civilized company.” 

Eskel cocked his head to the side, keeping himself still while Yennefer finally got the last of the ties of his shirt undone. She parted the fabric to bare more of his skin, skin that he  _ hated _ having other people see normally. He swallowed hard and spoke with a voice roughened by both arousal and nerves. “If he’s uncivilized, so am I. Witchers tend to have these things in common.”

“I disagree,” Yennefer remarked, “Seeing as you have your manners.” She met his eyes. “And for that reason I would like to ask that you join me in bed, Eskel.”

“Geralt—”

“Will learn his lesson after this evening,” Yennefer reminded him, stroking her fingers over one of Eskel’s nipples with the utmost care. The soft bud began to harden, ever so slightly. Between the cold and her touch, there was nothing Eskel could have done to stop it. “And I have the impression that you’d be open to having a woman for the night.” 

Eskel nodded, watched her hands, and helped Yennefer when she finally decided to slip his shirt off of his shoulders. The thin linen fell to the ground and pooled by Eskel’s feet. Yennefer’s hands spread over his stomach, nails ever so slightly nicking his skin. “I’m not opposed,” he whispered. 

A venomous grin spread over Yennefer’s features. “I know,” she reminded him, “you’re so excited that you can hardly hide it. More nervous than aroused, however. I would like to stop that.” She pushed back against his stomach, ever so slightly. “Sit.”

Eskel sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back, holding up his body with his arms stretched out behind him. “I apologize.” 

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Yennefer remarked. “I asked for you, Eskel. I can hardly be surprised by the nerves when you and I barely know each other. The only thing we have in common is the man sitting on the unicorn in the corner. A few brief meetings hardly make up for a lack of any relationship between the two of us.”

Eskel cocked his head to the side, questioning. “Do you think that this makes up for that?” 

“Of course not,” Yennefer replied, climbing forward so that she could straddle his lap. “But getting to know each other was not in the equation when you agreed to come here, was it?” 

Eskel’s gaze drifted from Yennefer’s face and down her body. Down to the swell of her breasts where a tiny mole rested not far from her sternum. Her small clothes were there and Eskel could easily reach out and start to peel them away from her. If he wanted to, he could even try to her corselet away from her body, but Eskel wouldn’t do that. 

She leaned in close to his face, placing her hands on his shoulders and pressing her body up against his own. He took her weight with some ease, and Yennefer smiled when she realized that Eskel wasn’t going to be moving. If she pushed him, then maybe Eskel would have allowed himself to fall back onto the bed, but for the moment he wasn’t so inclined. 

“Hello,” Eskel greeted her, not sure what he was meant to say to Yennefer. He glanced back at Geralt over her shoulder, just to make sure that the third man in the equation was doing alright. With one glanced Eskel got the distinct impression that Geralt was doing everything in his power to avoid touching himself. If he ended up grinding against the unicorn, Eskel wouldn't have been surprised by it either way. This had to be a special sort of torture for Geralt. “You’re—”

“Sick of talking,” Yennefer filled in for him, rocking her hips to press down against Eskel’s cock, which had filled out in his leathers past what was strictly comfortable. “Now do you intend to fuck me or not, witcher Eskel? I’ve heard stories about your prowess, ones which I’m hardly going to be forgetting anytime soon.” 

He tilted his head to the side, considering the question. “What sorts of stories, should I ask?” 

“Generous ones,” Yennefer flattened her hand out on his shoulder, fingernails ever so slightly cutting into Eskel’s skin before she pushed him back onto the bed. Eskel allowed for his body to drop, and he bounced slightly upon his landing. She scooted further up Eskel’s body so that she straddled his stomach rather than his hips. “I’d like to see whether you live up to the rumors I’ve heard or not.”

“I’ve heard things about you too,” Eskel murmured, picking up his hands and letting them settle on the supple skin of Yennefer’s sides. She was soft, skin so smooth that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt someone so soft. Certainly not since he was young, back when he could still get whoever he wanted for the most part. 

Since the scars, hoping for beauty was more than Eskel could think. He got what he could when and where he could, and nothing more. 

Someone as gorgeous as Yennefer would never want someone as ugly as Eskel, certainly not outside of the context of the little scene that they’d created. 

Yennefer cocked her head to the side and her wild black curls fell down in front of her shoulder, nearly eclipsing that mole of hers. “What sorts of rumors?” Yennefer asked, her hands roaming up and over Eskel’s torso, fingers playing over his nipples and his scars alike. “Because I can only imagine you’ve only ever heard them from one source.” 

“You’re right—” Eskel mumbled, “Not all of them were good, though.”

“I expected as much,” Yennefer pulled her hands away from Eskel’s chest and set them on his hands where they cupped her form. His fingers wandered over her skin without his hands moving much further than the curve of her waist. “When Triss mentioned your hands, I’d thought that she was exaggerating the effect.” 

Eskel raised an eyebrow in confusion. “My hands?” 

“You emanate and you don’t even realize it,” Yennefer teased, “If fate had been kinder to you, you would have made a fine son of Ban Ard.”

“Wouldn’t have wanted to be—” Eskel began to protest, but Yennefer silenced him by grabbing his right hand where it was and dragging it away from her waist and towards her crotch instead. His fingertips barely brushed up against the hem of her panties. 

Yennefer gave him a look which told Eskel to quiet, and so he did. “I’d like to put a theory to the test, if that’s alright, Eskel.” She rocked her hips, as thought trying to prove a point. 

Eskel let the tips of his fingers travel over the soft fabric and lace. Such fine things and all he wanted to do was take hold of the garment and  _ rip  _ it away from Yennefer’s body. He didn’t have the coin to replace them by any means, but it was what he wanted to do. 

“Rip,” Yennefer hissed to him. “Stop thinking about it and just  _ do it. _ You’re getting too caught in your own head, I want to be fucked, not to listen to a damned seminar.” Her eyes met Eskel’s and the message passed as clearly as it possibly could. 

Eskel swallowed hard, not sure whether he needed to worry about retribution, knotted his fingers in the fabric, and ripped it apart at the seams. The fabric gave away easily and Eskel tossed the scraps off to the side, paying little attention to where they landed. Yennefer caught him by the wrist once more and guided his hand to her wet slit. 

“There—” She breathed as Eskel began to move his fingers in a practiced way that he’d learned back when he was a young man, decades ago. He spread his fingers through her labia and circled her clit with his thumb, taking his time with her. Eskel pushed himself upright as much as he could with his free arm, leaned in, and pressed a kiss to the top of Yennefer’s right breast, suckling lightly at her skin with no intention to leave behind a mark. Yennefer rocked her hips into his touch carefully, so Eskel continued on. 

Her thin fingers wound their way into his hair, nails scraping up against Eskel’s scalp as she touched him. Eskel let out a quiet sound of pleasure which was ultimately muffled by Yennefer’s skin. She held him close, still moving. 

“I can feel it,” Yennefer whispered from above Eskel’s head. “It’s like… a vibration. Almost piercingly intense, and I—” Eskel slipped two fingers to her clit, massaging it as gently as he could. Yennefer fell apart and a part of Eskel wondered whether he could arch his digits into a sign and intensify whatever Yennefer was feeling. 

Too dangerous of a thing to just  _ experiment _ with, however. 

Off on the other side of the room, Geralt let out a whining sound which Eskel could do absolutely  _ nothing _ to ignore. Eskel peeled his mouth away from Yennefer’s breast— he needed to get the rest of her clothes off sooner than later. He wanted to get his lips around her nipple, or to tug at the bud with his teeth or  _ something. _

When he caught sight of Geralt, he was more than pleased by what he saw. Geralt was still straddling the stuffed unicorn’s back, but he’d altered his angle so that he could grind against it with his cock. A lance of arousal shot through Eskel’s body and he couldn’t help the tiny buck of his hips that he made in search of stimulation. 

Yennefer pressed her hand against Eskel’s shoulder once more and pressed him back away from her. With the change in angle, he lost sight of Geralt. “Lie back,” Yennefer instructed and so Eskel did just that, though he wasn’t entirely sure just what she had planned for him in that moment. What he wasn’t ready for her to do was do  _ nothing,  _ however. She simply sat back, rested straddling Eskel’s stomach and stared down at him. “I’m going to give you a chance to stop this,” she whispered to him, “I’d like to fuck you, Eskel.”

“Yes,” Eskel breathed, “Please.” 

“Then get undressed the rest of the way,” Yennefer instructed him, “and when you are done, I want you back in this same place, right where you are and how you are. Am I understood?” 

“Yes,” Eskel responded. Yennefer stared down with obvious hunger in her eyes then leaned down to press her lips to his in a kiss. Eskel responded in kind, tilting his hips again in search of some sort of stimulation and finding it, if only for a moment when Yennefer pressed back down against him. She left a damp spot on his trousers. 

Yennefer climbed off of Eskel, but didn’t allow for their kiss to break. Eskel poured himself into it, feeling a little like a starving man that had just been shown a feast. People didn’t want to kiss him, not with his face the way that it was, not with the chunk of his upper lip that was missing, not with the broken teeth that he could do close to nothing to hide. 

She suckled gently at his lower lip, uncaring for the awkward texture left behind by his scar tissue. Eskel hissed quietly. He hadn’t realized how  _ sensitive _ the scars could be. The only time anything ever touched his lips were when he ate or drank, or on the occasions where he’d rub soft wax over his lips to protect them from the winter chill.

KIssing was different and in a way, it was  _ new.  _ The changed topography of his face had kept him from ever trying. With Padma, his succubus friend and occasional bed mate there was never any kissing because they understood what they were to each other. There was no  _ need  _ for the added intimacy. The sex was just sex.

Yennefer was different. It was different because  _ Geralt _ was there, hovering just out of view. 

Eskel eased himself upright, reached for the tie on his trousers, and then tugged them down and out of the way before doing the same with his braies and depositing them on the floor. He’d attend to those later, when he and Yennefer were finished and both desperately in need of a bath. After they called Geralt down to be taken care of as well, at least. 

He didn’t know  _ what _ Yennefer had planned for Geralt exactly, just that he would be allowed relief eventually as well. 

With his clothes gone, Eskel pressed his body into Yennefer’s. He brought her to him, hot skin against hot skin and wrapped his arms around her waist to keep her in close. She was so much _ smaller _ than him. He’d seen her side by side with Geralt, but had never considered how small she would be compared to himself. 

“Hello,” Yennefer said, looking up at him. “This isn’t what I hoped for.”

“I know,” Eskel’s voice was far rougher than normal. “In a moment.”

His hands travelled over Yennefer’s skin, her warmth, her nearly unscarred form. “I’ll go,” he whispered to Yennefer before allowing his eyes to flick back in Geralt’s direction. The white wolf had given up on rubbing off on the unicorn, and instead palmed his cock through his braies, squeezing to ensure that he too got stimulation. 

A matter for later, Eskel reminded himself. He drew away from Yennefer and backed up onto the bed again, laying back right where Yennefer had gotten him earlier. His legs dangled off of the bed awkwardly and Yennefer pointed up towards the pillow to show that she was taking mercy on Eskel, at least for the moment. 

Eskel scrambled up so that his head was on the pillow and watched as Yennefer went through a last moment of preparation. She reached for a tin of salve that sat on the table beside the table and brought it to Eskel when she moved into place beside his hip.

He just watched her and drank in her form. He wanted to get his mouth on her again, to suckle at her breasts, to kiss that mole of hers, to nip and bite if she decided she wanted him to. 

Yennefer rested at his side, opening the little jar and swiping two fingers through it. Eskel sniffed and was able to make out the scent of olives, vaguely, along with something else he didn’t recognize. Some sort of concoction, probably dreamed up in either the walls of Aretuza by bored sorceresses or possibly imported from Toussaint. Eskel didn’t know where one would grow olives  _ other _ than Toussaint, so he could only guess as to the salve’s origins. 

“Should I ask?” Eskel watched as Yennefer spread the salve over her fingers before reaching for his cock. 

“Just something to ease the process,” Yennefer assured Eskel easily. “We’ll both be glad for it.” Her fingers wrapped around him and she stroked him. Eskel let his eyes slip shut in pleasure for just a moment while a quiet groan escaped him. “See?”

“Yeah,” Eskel breathed, “Fuck, feels good.” 

“And it’ll be better with some time,” Yennefer pointed out, climbing up so that she straddled Eskel’s body. Her hand left his cock and then she was reaching between her legs, slipping her fingers into herself, and giving herself the additional lubrication. Eskel hadn’t thought that she would need more, but he was willing to let Yennefer lead. She knew herself better than he ever would, after all. “And now, Eskel, I would like for you to serve as an  _ example _ to Geralt for how to act.” 

“An example?” Eskel asked. This was an aspect of the game that he had  _ not _ been aware of before going into it. “If that’s what you insist.” 

Yennefer smiled, her head tilting to the side in the exact moment that she guided Eskel’s cock to press against her entrance. Eskel pointedly kept his hips still, since he could tell that it was for the better if he just let Yennefer lead in  _ everything _ . 

She pressed down, and from the angle Eskel was laying at he was able to see the moment that he breached her. “Fuck,” Eskel huffed out, head dropping back as Yennefer worked herself down onto his cock. She rocked down onto him with careful, small thrusts as her body adjusted. It took everything Eskel had not to grab onto her, flip them, and fuck her down into the mattress so hard that she might feel him for weeks. 

But that was not the game they were playing. She was no succubus who would want him to grab her by the horns and use them to steer her through the encounter. If he tried to take Yennefer’s control, he suspected he would have been met with flames for his efforts.

Yennefer’s hips finally met his, and it was then that Eskel knew that he was fully sheathed in her. A low moan tore its way from his lips and his eyes fluttered shut in pleasure, if only for a second. Eskel reached out for her, rested his hands on her hips and kneaded at her flesh. 

“Well,” Yennefer let out a shaky breath, “I suppose everything on you is bigger, isn’t it?” 

Eskel felt his body heat at the comment, some strange embarrassment rushing over him that he didn’t dare allow to stay. “Pretty much has always been that way,” he mumbled for Yennefer to hear. “Geralt never complained either.“

“Of course he didn’t,” Yennefer huffed as she began to rock her hips again, bringing herself pleasure and using Eskel almost as though he was a toy. “How could he ever?” 

Eskel let out a quiet laugh and finally allowed himself to move his hips as well, meeting Yennefer thrust for thrust because he could think of absolutely  _ nothing _ that he wanted more than to make sure that she wasn’t the only one working for her pleasure. 

A high pitched breath punched out of Yennefer and soon the two of them were working into a rhythm, one so sweet that Eskel nearly forgot about Geralt’s presence in the room. He wrapped his arms around Yennefer, hauled her in close to him so that she was nearly against his chest, and let her continue to move even as he still moved with her. 

The sex was nice, but having someone that  _ wanted _ to touch him and be touched and wanted to face him while they fucked was so much better. It was a pleasure that he hadn’t been able to feel in a  _ very  _ long time. Eskel pressed his lips back to Yennefer’s, catching her by the back of the head to make sure that she was as close as possible. Her hair was impossibly soft under his fingers, so soft that he wanted to run his fingers through her locks and just pet her. 

But she was not his to have, so Eskel banished the thought and continued with his own thrusts. 

“Gods, Eskel,” Yennefer moaned into his ear. “Why have I never invited you here sooner?”

“Because—” Eskel huffed out, “You have Geralt.” 

“And Geralt clearly hasn’t been doing the job—” And just like that Eskel was once again aware of Geralt’s presence in the room. He could hear the quiet sound of him gasping into his own touch, the shuffle of fabric that indicated that he was indeed masturbating, the occasional glide of skin against skin. The unicorn’s hooves made a tiny  _ clicking _ sound when Geralt moved and the weight distribution of the toy changed. 

Yennefer pushed Eskel back down into the bed, and so Eskel released Yennefer. She sat upright, still with his cock hard and twitching inside of her, and looked back over her shoulder at their audience. “Geralt,” Yennefer said, “do remember to  _ behave _ . This was meant to be a punishment, I should not have to remind you of that.” 

“Don’t pay attention to him,” Eskel huffed, “it’s why he’s such a pain, he’s used to being the  _ favorite. _ ”

“That’s not—” Geralt began to protest but a single look from Yennefer silenced him all at once. 

Eskel swallowed and decided to keep going. “He’s used to getting just about everything he wants, wouldn’t surprise me that he’s where he is because he keeps deciding to get lazy on you.” 

“Very lazy,” Yennefer rocked her hips, grabbing for Eskel’s hands to bring them to the swell of her breasts. Eskel kneaded at the flesh gently, and then harder when Yennefer pressed into his palms to tell him that she  _ wanted _ more. 

That desire to get his mouth on her rose again, and so Eskel pushed himself upright and bent himself awkwardly so that he could gain access to what of her he  _ really _ wanted to enjoy. His lips reached her nipple and Eskel allowed himself to lap at the pink bud, testing the waters just as much as he was tasting her skin. There was salt on her skin, her own sweat. 

There was also her smell, that smell that Geralt loved so much that Eskel was finally beginning to understand the appeal of. Lilacs and gooseberries. She must have applied it at her collar, Eskel thought as he sucked Yennefer’s nipple into his mouth and alternated between licking and sucking at it. 

Her fingers wove through his hair and it was then that Eskel knew that she  _ wanted _ him there. He cupped her breasts with his hands, thumbing over the nipple that he wasn’t attending to with his mouth. He kneaded her gently, enjoying that closeness, that sweetness, that salt, her scent. 

Yennefer’s nails raked over Eskel’s scalp and he couldn’t even find it in himself to  _ care.  _

_ “Yes—”  _ Yennefer let out a broken moan, her cunt spasming around Eskel’s cock. Eskel released one of her breasts and reached between the two of them to find her clit with his fingers and press against it directly, circling the little nub as Yennefer tightened around him again and let out a loud gasp, as though she’d opened her eyes and seen the gods. 

A woman like her, Eskel thought, was the type that gods might make way for should they exist. 

He was, in that moment, a worshipper. Eskel had never worshipped anything in his life, but there he was. 

“Gods, Yen,” he whispered against her skin as he went back to kissing over her body. “You’re so fucking wonderful,”

“Yes, I know—” She gasped as Eskel continued thrusting. He was so  _ close _ . “I’d like you to finish, Eskel,” Yennefer hissed into his ear. “I want you to spend inside of me, so deep I’ll still be able to feel it later.”

“Yen—”

“ _ Now, _ Eskel.” She knotted her fingers in his hair, tilted his head back, and forced her mouth to his own in what he could only consider an absolutely  _ vicious  _ kiss. 

She left him no option. Yennefer tensed around him, undoubtedly with intention, and then Eskel was moaning into her lips and burying his seed as deep inside of her as he could get. The kiss broke and Eskel panted against Yennefer’s skin. She eased him back to the bed from his half-sitting position and stayed in place. 

“Geralt,” Yennefer panted, “come.” 

Eskel blinked and looked over to the unicorn, where Geralt was clambering off with a hard cock that dripped pre-cum. At some point he’d decided to abandon his braies, the garment dangling awkwardly off of the unicorn’s horn. Geralt approached the bed and climbed up onto it at Yennefer’s side. 

She grabbed Geralt by the hair, same as she had Eskel, and hauled him in for a kiss. It lasted for only a moment and then she was turning Geralt’s head to make his and Eskel’s eyes meet. 

“This is what I expect,” Yennefer whispered to Geralt, “from you. If you don’t improve your performance in the future, I’ll be inclined to call for Eskel again.” 

Eskel laid back and allowed himself to relax, if only for the moment. It was all too apparent that  _ this _ was where Yennefer was going to take charge and steer the encounter forward. Besides, Eskel was hardly going to complain about having a chance to catch his breath and relax after such a rigorous session. 

Geralt looked up at her, “I understand,” he said quietly. “Yen—”

“I don’t know that you do,” Yennefer teased him, stroking her thing fingers through Geralt’s hair with ease. “I think that there’s a further example that can be proven here, Geralt. If you were better I wouldn’t have had to call for Eskel at all, and so I think—”

Geralt tilted his head to the side, curious and confused all at once. Eskel kept himself still and quiet, but allowed himself the small luxury of settling a hand on Yennefer’s stomach. She was warm up against him and Eskel liked it. 

“I think that I’d like for you to clean up your mess, Geralt,” Yennefer finished, fingers knotting in Geralt’s hair and using his ponytail as a way to direct him down into the space between Yennefer’s thighs. “Don’t you think so, Eskel?”

Yennefer’s intent dawned on Eskel and he felt his face heat up at the very thought of it. He’d never thought that someone might be interested in what Yennefer was suggesting, certainly not in relation to him. 

But Geralt settled in place, lowered his face and Eskel watched his tongue flick out to lap at Yennefer’s cunt which  _ dripped _ with Eskel’s own spend. 

He was getting hard again, Eskel realized. He reached between his legs to squeeze himself, just the bit of stimulation for the moment. That was all he needed. Just a little bit to take the edge off, let himself relax. Only a little bit. 

Geralt settled into place with no complaint. He lapped at Yennefer’s cunt, clearing away Eskel’s seed like it was his life mission to do so. Yennefer relaxed at Eskel’s side, hooking one leg over Geralt’s shoulder to ensure that he wasn’t going anywhere. Geralt paid it no mind, if anything he pressed into the touch and moved closer to Yennefer still.

Eskel reached out and stroked his fingers over Geralt’s hair, soft and far silkier than it ever had been when they were younger. Yennefer was making sure he was taken care of, that was clear. “Good, Wolf,” Eskel said quietly, perhaps a little too carefully. Yennefer moaned as Geralt’s tongue flicked over her clit, a hand snapping to Eskel’s arm to  _ squeeze. _

He wrapped himself up around Yennefer, but didn’t break that contact with Geralt for a second. He wanted to have Geralt close, to hold his closest friend to him as a lifeline of sorts because having Geralt in the bed with them suddenly made everything  _ different _ than it had been just moments before. 

“He always like this?” Eskel asked, whispering into Yennefer’s ear. Geralt would be able to hear all of it, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was the snowy white hair under Eskel’s hand, his own hardening cock, the feeling of Yennefer’s skin up against his own after he’d gone so long without anyone willing to so much as  _ touch _ him. 

Yennefer gasped, her thigh she’d draped over Geralt’s shoulder trembling with pleasure. “He just loves doing this,” Yennefer replied to Eskel, hand squeezing his bicep once more, nails digging into his skin. “However this is a little different—”

“Is it now?” Eskel cast an appraising look down at Geralt, still clearing away the mess as much as he was just looking to pleasure Yennefer. “And what happens after?” He asked the sorceress. “Does he get a reward?”

“If I decide he deserves one—” She looked up at Eskel and her brows furrowed. Eskel pressed his hips against Yennefer, and like that she realized just what Eskel was looking for. “Well, if that’s the case—”

Yennefer was cut off with a gasp and a buck of her hips, trying to get further contact with Geralt’s mouth. Eskel gently cupped Yennefer’s breast and stroked a thumb over a hard nipple, giving her just a little bit more. She keened and her back arched. She pulled Geralt close to her with everything she had, kept him right there so close that he couldn’t go anywhere. She held Eskel in a death grip.

She moaned, loud and wanton, so loud that Eskel had no doubt the whole keep could hear. 

She came, she collapsed back down into the bed, panting and slicked with a slight sheen of sweat. She laid there, her black curls pooled around her, violet shaded eyes half-lidded and her face relaxed. 

Eskel tried to embed the image in his mind, knowing that it was something he was not likely to ever get to see again. 

“Geralt—” Yennefer gasped, pushing him back away from her. “Enough.”

Geralt listened, he sat up and wiped the mess away from his mouth. Mostly clear fluid, mixed with a little bit of milky white. 

Eskel’s cock throbbed. “Wolf,” he said, offering Geralt a hand. “Here.” 

Geralt looked at him and grinned wide in a way that was all too familiar. The challenge was established, and so Eskel braced himself for what was to come. He put space between himself and Yennefer, and once Geralt deemed it safe, he  _ pounced _ on Eskel. 

Eskel caught Geralt by the waist in a motion that was all too familiar after years of training and flipped the two of them. He got Geralt down on the bed, on his belly, and Eskel made himself at home by resting himself on the back of Geralt’s thighs. 

“Need to be taken care of, Wolf?” Eskel asked, slapping a hand over one of Geralt’s milk-white buttocks. It didn’t pink, certainly wouldn’t be enough to  _ hurt. _

Geralt groaned and rocked his hips into the bed. Eskel pressed forward, guiding his still-slick cock between Geralt’s cheeks. “Yeah,” Eskel answered for him, “You do, don’t you?” 

Geralt let out a whine. “Fucking  _ bastard. _ ” 

“Hmm,” Eskel considered Geralt. “Could have you right now, like this…” he mumbled. “Remember how we used to do this?” Eskel raised his eyes to meet Yennefer’s, even though he teased Geralt. Yennefer laid beside them, watching in interest. S he raised an eyebrow in interest, beckoning Eskel on. 

“Not like this—” Geralt grumbled. “Thighs, mostly.” 

Eskel rocked his hips, letting his cock glide against Geralt’s body. “Yeah,” he sighed, “Thighs.” It took all of Eskel’s willpower but he pulled off of Geralt and laid down on his side with his back to Yennefer’s. Yennefer laid back and simply watched, curious. Eskel wanted her to reach out and touch him, but didn’t want to disturb her either. 

Geralt crowded in close to Eskel, all but ready to put them close to hips to hips, but before he could settle Yennefer spoke. 

“No,” she said. “Eskel—” Eskel looked back to her in interest, raising a brow. Yennefer smiled. “Turn around,” She instructed him. “I want to see Geralt to fuck your thighs.” 

Geralt stilled at the suggestion, hands on Eskel’s hips. Eskel took a breath, a little surprised by the sudden change, but he turned, Geralt helping him along. He turned until his ass faced Geralt and Eskel faced Yennefer. She slid in close to him and arranged Eskel so that he laid with his scarred cheek pillowed against her breast. 

“Go ahead, Geralt.” Yennefer said, considering. 

“Salve first,” Eskel grumbled, “Please.” He and Geralt had done this enough times as boys that  _ both _ of them knew that playing dry wasn’t exactly pleasurable. Eskel wasn’t going to trust Geralt’s pre-cum to be enough. 

The tin of slick was retrieved and Yennefer was the one to uncap it. She was the one to swipe her fingers through the material, she was the one to wipe it off in the space between Eskel’s legs. Satisfied, Yennefer kept the slick close, but also nodded to Geralt to tell him that it was alright to continue. 

Geralt crowded himself against Eskel’s back, guided his cock between his thighs, and used a hand to settle Eskel into place, to reassure in a way that was entirely too familiar. Yennefer smiled as she watched the scene, and Eskel just waited for Geralt to start. 

The first thrust was easy, and before Eskel could even  _ think _ to reach down and touch himself, Yennefer was doing it for him. She took his cock in hand, and nodded to Geralt. It occurred to him then that she was reading Geralt’s mind, possibly even planting instructions that he  _ couldn’t hear _ into Geralt’s thoughts. 

Geralt grinned wide and his thrusts intensified, both in strength and speed until he was fucking Eskel into Yennefer’s hand. She stroked him, but kept time with Geralt, who was moaning into Eskel’s ear in pleasure, the same way that he had so many times before. 

As for Eskel, he let his eyes slip shut and let himself be lost to the pleasure of the moment, of Geralt’s closeness, the skin contact, the lilacs and elderberries and sweat and sex, the scent of leather that clung to him and Geralt alike. 

It was so  _ much _ . So much better than overly-perfumed prostitutes in smoky parlors that would only agree for Eskel to take them from behind, if even that. So much better than the grip of his own hand on a cold, lonely night. So much better than a succubus and a nose full of fisstech taken to both numb his pains and ensure that he could keep up.

It didn’t take long, really. It didn’t need to.

What finished Eskel was threefold:

First, Geralt reached between them, awkward as it was. He slipped a hand behind Eskel’s balls and  _ pressed _ against that spot that they’d realized was there decades before. 

Secondly, Geralt moaned into Eskel’s ear, breath hot against his neck as he spilled on Eskel’s thighs, hot and wet and  _ everything. _

Thirdly, Yennefer kissed the breath out of Eskel in the same moment as she twisted her hand at the head of his cock.

The pleasure pooled together, separate threads weaving themselves together until Eskel too was coming, spilling over Yennefer’s soft hand. She stroked him through it, took her time while she did it.

Eskel batted her hand away, over-sensitive and not wanting any more. 

Geralt didn’t bother to remove himself from between Eskel’s thighs, merely settled with his heaving chest against Eskel’s back.

Eskel took a moment to catch his breath. “That…” He tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to mind. Not immediately, at least. “That was nice.” 

“Glad you think so,” Yennefer remarked. “Could all use a bath after this.” 

“Could use a nap,” Eskel grumbled, reaching back to stroke a hand along Geralt’s thigh, just above his kneecap. “Did good, Wolf.”

“Mm,” Yennefer hummed. “He did. As did you.” 

Eskel hummed his response and let his eyes slip shut. He wanted to sleep there. He wouldn’t be able to, but he  _ wanted _ to. 

Yennefer let out an annoyed sound and extracted herself from the bed, giving Geralt an accusing look. “Both of you, really?” She asked. “Do I truly have to do everything?”

Eskel glanced between the two of them. “What’s—”

“Both of you want to sleep instead of at least  _ try _ to clean off. I don’t know about you, but I have absolutely no intention of going to bed sticky and covered in your collective mess,” Yennefer walked over to a little bowl of water that had been set aside at some point earlier that evening. She heated it with an incantation then joined them, offering the bowl to Geralt. 

Geralt grumbled, but he sat up, took the bowl, and removed a soft looking rag. Then he set to work, clearing away the mess from his skin, then Eskel’s, and then finally away from Yennefer’s hands and her cunt. 

Eskel let himself bask in it, the last few minutes of pleasure. He’d have to leave soon. 

“Stay,” Geralt said, putting the bowl back aside. “No reason to kick you out.” 

Eskel looked up at him, questioning. “That wasn’t in the deal.”

“Nothing that says the contract can’t be amended,  _ witcher,” _ Yennefer teased him, settling back in at Eskel’s side. "Stay for a nap. No reason to chase you away so quickly,“ She traced a finger over his chest, thinking. ”Might even be inclined to invite you to do this again.“ 

“That so?” Eskel asked, looking from her to Geralt. “Don’t want to get in the way.” 

“You aren’t,” Geralt assured him. “We chose you for a reason, remember?” 

Eskel let out a slow breath. “Going to be the death of me, Wolf,” he grumbled and then looked to Yennefer. “Broke my rule over you.” 

“Rule?” Yennefer looked at him with confusion. 

“Don’t sleep with sorceresses,” Eskel mumbled, closing his eyes.

“Do I want to know?” Yennefer’s voice quieted. 

Geralt cuddled in against Eskel, stroked over his scarred cheek with a careful hand. “No,” Geralt answered. “You don’t. But it’s a big deal.”

Eskel hummed. Geralt kissed his brow, familiar and gentle and always the same. “Stay and nap,” Geralt said. “We can talk more later.” 

“Of course,” Yennefer said softly. “Later.” With that she too settled into place, and Eskel was able to drift off to sleep between the two of them, feeling more fond of them both than ever before, like that was even possible with Geralt. 

It was nice. All of it was nice. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Find me on Tumblr](https://arynasea.tumblr.com)   
>  [Find me on Twitter](https://twitter.com/hymen_opus)   
> 


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